Day 10

A few weeks ago, my aunt was going to have surgery. I called a few days beforehand, when I heard something was up, just to check on her and say hi.

After chatting for a bit, somehow the talk of babies came up. And that's when I realized that either a) my mom and cousin really had said nothing to her, b) my aunt really is THAT good at pretending she doesn't partake in gossiping, or c) when she complains about her memory getting worse with each year she really is serious.

In any case, I told her we were having trouble getting pregnant, and she asked what was wrong. And then I realized that I may not have explained it that well here before.

So here is what I told her, in basic terms:

I have been diagnosed with Poly Cystic Ovarian Syndrome, what they call PCOS. What it means to me is that my system is just out of sorts. The extra fat I am carrying has helped cause extra issues, like my diabetes, and basically has my system all out of sorts. Thanks to that, my erratic hormones are preventing me from ovulating regularly. So, I have eggs sitting there, ready to meet with A's sperm in the hopes of producing a healthy child, but because of my bad habits my body is stopping that from happening on its own.

Both my Endocrinologist and OB/GYN have told me that if I can get the diabetes and weight under control, my system will regulate itself eventually, and things will happen. But it could be 1 month, 6 months, or even years before it is straightened out. I am 35 now, and I want a family with my husband. I want the chance in 2 or 3 years to have another baby and not be 60 when they graduate from high school. I want to maybe see them get married and start a family of their own.

Selfish, I know. But I want certain things.

So I was given another option by both doctors, which is essentially a "boost" to force my system to ovulate and release an egg that is ready to be fertilized and let nature work its magic. With the help of Clomid, things may work out.

And that is what I am waiting for now.

Last Tuesday, during the Great Doctor Marathon of 2009, I called in for my refill of a drug given to me in late April by my OB/GYN. This magic pill, taken over 10 days, will trigger a period. Since I magically managed to have a cycle in late July, the timing was pretty good to force this along. It's a generic of Provera, and the last time I took it my cycle started on the 3rd day. I let the OB/GYN know this, so her instructions were to take this pill and call her on the first day of my cycle. If the cycle started before the 10 days were up I was to stop taking the pill and call her so she could prescribe Clomid.

Clomid is the magic drug that I think I have been fantasizing about since March. This pill I will take starting on the 3rd day of my cycle. On the 13th day after my cycle begins, I will have my first ultrasound ever. If the follicles are there, and everything looks to be ready to do it's job, I get an injection. That injection will actually force the real ovulation process to begin, and the goal is to introduce sperm and egg within 24 hours.

Today is Day 10 on the generic Provera, the last day to take the pill that is supposed to start my cycle, and I haven't so much as spotted. I am supposed to give it 3 days from now to see if something happens, and this is starting to test my patience. I think it would be different if last time there had been a delay, but that wasn't the case and now I want the same thing to happen this time.

Why the anxiousness? I mean, besides the obvious?

Clomid has different dosage levels, and the rule is to start me on the lowest one. So, if it doesn't work out, we have to do this again in another month. And maybe even the month after that. One cycle at a time until we get the results we want.

I have never wanted my monthly visitor to arrive as much as I do now.

Every time I look at a calendar, I see it blocked off in 4 week increments, showing me the windows of opportunity for each month.

And all the empty space in between each cycle...

That just makes me wonder how long this will really take.