The Whole Shebang

So today was the big appointment. The one where the results are summarized and the plans are made for how to proceed.

But before that was the semen analysis. We had to move it to today instead of yesterday because someone (me) had some jager on Saturday night and came home to get my freak on. Fucking jager. So anyway, you're supposed to have at least 2 days of abstinence, so Monday didn't quite work out. Anyway, we got to the clinic and as the nurse was leading us back to the "private" room to do our business, I was seriously laughing like a little kid. It was super embarrassing and super funny. She had to explain the rules to us about how to collect the sample and where to put it and there was a button to push to let the sperm specialist know that the sample was ready to be analyzed. It was all surreal and hilarious and it got worse. When they closed the door, we looked around and realized there was a basket of porn magazines under the table. I mean, I figured there would be porn, but it was quite another thing to see it. Hustlers and High Society. I didn't even know there was a magazine called High Society, and let me set the record straight, there was nothing classy about this magazine. It was the dirtiest porno I have ever seen. Not that I've seen a ton of porn, but it was gross. And fascinating. I bet we sat there looking at the magazines for 20 minutes out of pure awe and disgust. Anyway, to make a long story short, we got the job done and the semen has been analyzed. I'll spare you any more details.

About an hour later, we met with the doctor to go over all the results. Everything is "normal." Naturally. This means they have no particular reason why it takes me so long to get pregnant, and no reason that I should be miscarrying. Unfortunately, this happens to about 70% of infertile couples and it is heartbreaking. I mean, not that I'd want anything to be wrong with me, but if there was, at least there'd be an explanation and possibly a solution. Alas, no such luck.

I started crying.

My doctor gave me lots of examples of how it works out and the odds and percentages and possibilities. I just cried and couldn't look him in the eye. "What do we do next?" I asked through tears. He said, "We keep trying and wait." That was the worst answer ever. I asked for more choices. He said we can keep going and trying or we can look into more drastic measures like donor sperm or in vitro fertilization. I don't think I'm willing to do donor things at this point and IVF isn't financially possible for us either. I asked him about the fertility drugs. He said that in most cases for women who already ovulate regularly like me, the drugs will not make a difference. More crying.

Then my sweet, wonderful, super aggressive husband told the doctor that I came today, on day 5 of my cycle, hoping to try the fertility drugs and asked what the possible benefits could be. At this point, the doctor consented to trying Clomid for the next 3 months. I perked up right away when his prescription pad came out. Who knows if it will really make a difference but I am just desperate to give it a try. I started the pills today and take them for 5 days. They have a 30% chance of making me crazy emotional, and considering how hormonal I am normally, I am fully counting on being a wreck. Hubby says he will try to hang in there and I vowed not to throw anything at his head.

So... here goes nothing. Wish me luck.