Wednesday, March 24, 2010
So, You Think You Can Ovulate!
It's finally your moment! They have given you a pee test you can't fail. All you have to do is ovulate!! Ha! I could do that in my sleep. In fact, I might be doing it right now. I've got this little test all wrapped up. Some folks even call me The Ovulator. It's a done deal.
As it turns out, I don't ovulate that much. In fact, you could say my eggs are slightly shy. I like to think they're just picky. Or maybe the pact I made with my uterus at the wise old age of 7 to have Bryan Adam's baby, was taken a little too seriously. They could still be holding out. I'd also understand if they had an extreme fear of being inhabited by tiny slimy tadpoles. It wouldn't surprise me if every cell in my body was terrified of other people's germs. Another peeing test, failed.
Surgery in no way helped my cramps, or fertility. It's still a rather sad realization. Next on the agenda was Clomid. If you can't ovulate naturally, this little lady will make you! She'll entice those little eggs out with some smooth music and sweet promises. I was so excited to be getting somewhere! As it turns out though, Clomid wasn't prepared for the hostile attitude of my highbrow eggs. I was also caught off guard by the cramps and mood swings of Clomid. We didn't really get along.
As I waited for the big day my eggs would come out of hiding, my patience was slipping. Everyone and their dog, cat, rat and fruit flies seemed to be having babies. Plus, those who had no troubles getting pregnant felt they were now infertility experts as well. Naturally, if you got pregnant on the first try you are champion at all things fertility. So continuing to hear "Just Relax", from all those self appointed MD's around me was truly inspirational. I applaud them all for their ability to unconsciously ovulate, spread their legs and receive sperm, and then create a tiny embryo. They are the real heros in this story.
After a few months of Clomid and frazzled nerves, I was back in the fertility clinic. Having vowed to never go there alone again, I was back there, alone, again. Next on the list was artificial insemination. I still wasn't ovulating, but she was convinced it would resume shortly. I went home with a small cup for Doug's best swimmers, and more ovulating tests. I was rather sad at the idea our child would come into this world from Doug getting frisky with a piece of plastic, and me opening my womb on a metal table. Call me old fashioned but I never imagined pregnancy would involve this many people, and no foreplay.
Having already had my stomach drilled open, handing him a cup and saying 'your turn' seemed fitting. I was sick of feeling uncomfortable, and selfishly wanted someone in the realm of awkwardness with me. If I'm honest, I felt like this was all my fault. I felt like this was all up to me. The cup to me, represented him having to climb on board the f-train. He however escaped ever having private time with the cup. I did not ovulate. By now my eggs were having no part of this. The Clomid queen had failed, and the eggs had sworn themselves to a life of solitude. Who could blame them? They had long dreamed of being serenaded to 'Summer of 69'. Not only was I asking them to forego that dream, but to do so without candlelight, flowers, or even some Marvin Gaye in the background. Plus, I had willing drugged them! They were terrified of me.
We had some real thinking to do, as our next options involved more money, and more procedures. Adoption, would soon make it's way on to the table. Until next week, xoxo