It All Depends on my Ovaries

So this weekend is one of my best friend's wedding. She lives in a different state than me but is having her wedding here because her family is here. So I've been trying to spend a ridiculous amount of time with her because I love her face and I only get to see it once or twice a year. Her wedding is taking place at a resort location about an hour from my house Saturday night so Hubs and I decided to book a room at the resort so that we can drink ridiculous amounts of alcohol and have hotel room sex.

But before we could make the decision about staying overnight, we had to get the old ovaries checked out. Remember how I said it felt like I had some bowling balls moving around in there, well I sure found out why.

I have 18 follicles.

18.

Yes, you read that right. 18 frickin follicles.

Unfortunately, only 1 is good sized at 17 mm, and the next closest is only at 10 mm, but the other 16(!) are pretty small and totally why I feel like my insides are going to explode. So they told me to trigger Sunday night and we will go in for the IUI Tuesday morning.

I'm slightly concerned about the plan because Tuesday will be day 17 and I don't normally ovulate that late. They said to continue with OPK's this weekend and if I get a positive before the trigger to call them.

So we'll see.

Do These Ovaries Make Me Look Fat?

ICLW-er's, please see previous post.

I read somewhere that your ovaries are the size of almonds. Almonds. That seems really small to me. Mostly because I've seen my ovaries on a 32 inch plasma and they seemed bigger than almonds on there. Also, because of the joyous Clomid, mine are swollen and they hurt.

Ok, well, I'm not a doctor but I play one on the Internet, so I don't actually KNOW if my ovaries are swollen but they sure feel like it. Every time I move I feel like I have some fucking bowling balls (ok maybe like really heavy tennis balls) moving around in there. It's uncomfortable.

Tomorrow is "jam a probe inside you" day so I will see what they have to say about my baby makers. Hopefully they're just doing some crazy baby making.

After this, I either get a baby belly or a 2 month break from drugs and a laparoscopy.

Cry Baby Cry Baby

I'm pretty sure I'm not pregnant. It's only 11 DPO but I can just tell. But that's not the point.

Today was my baby's last day of kindergarten.

I went to his school party and as I was watching him play duck, duck, goose, I was talking to another mom that I have become friends with over the year, and I just starting CRYING. In the classroom! I'm glad my son didn't see.

I just watched him and mourned how quickly it is going by and how he looks like a real kid and not a little kid. I cried because I have been pregnant 3 times since he was born and he still doesn't have a little sister. I cried because the other moms were there with toddlers in tow and pregnant bellies and seemingly no knowledge of what it's like to have their child graduating from kindergarten and being no closer now than we were 3 years ago to having another.

I cried tears for the babies I have longed for and lost and the thought that I may never see another one of my children on his last day of kindergarten, or feel little feet kicking me from inside or the incredible love at first sight when my baby is born. I cried because I feel bad that my perfect, beautiful son doesn't make me feel complete as a mom. Not because he is anything less than phenomenal, but because I thought there would be more by now.

I cried more because I feel defective and alone and misunderstood and depressed and sad and scared and empty. The sadness is palpable and I'll be okay tomorrow but today I am crying, crying, crying for as long as I want to.

WTF? (Or How Clomid has Made Me Crazy)

Today is officially the cross street of Clomid Road and Crazy Lane, although it started a few days ago. I am a nut job.

So far, I have been mad about the following things:

- Lux Lisbon's skinny little waist
- My scale
- Myself for stepping on the scale
- Myself for gaining (more) weight
- Miniature Babe Ruths for being so good
- Myself for being too hard on myself
- The freeway
- Email
- People who mumble
- Fertility Friend
- My husband for being too busy to make me feel better
- Oh yeah, the Clomid
- My job for not letting me bring booze on days like this

There are, quite literally, a dozen more things I've been mad about. In my head, I know I am being hormonal and irrational, but that doesn't stop me from being hormonal and irrational.

I'm really considering a beer (**) and frozen custard binge. Or at least getting off work early for a nap.