Two years on this rollercoaster of a journey has brought us to today. Clomid day! Having wept my torrent of tears for last cycle’s end, and endured one of my worst ever periods, I swallow the tiny white tablet with some … excitement? Dare I even feel that emotion? Could this be what we have needed to help us along?
I remember two years ago, almost to the day, beginning the first cycle on which we had decided to try to conceive a second little person. Having had no issues getting pregnant with my first miracle (a few months in the making), we entered that cycle with excitement and no anxiety about our fertility status. I remember the anticipation of the two week wait, analysing every little symptom and believing it could be THE sign. I knew it might not happen that month, but I knew it would happen. It didn’t. Obviously.
Every one of the 19 cycles since that very first, have each stripped away a little bit of positivity. Each month it is harder to keep that light of hope burning. The image of holding another child of our own fades. Now I fight internally with my inner voice to believe it is still our destiny.
The two week wait has become a torturous time, in which I hope but also feel afraid to hope. Where my conscience hears my prayers, and snorts, “Don’t be so stupid as to think this is it”. Where my body seems to smirk cruelly, as it gives my mind a glimmer; enough pregnancy symptoms to hold on to a slither of hope. And when it becomes clear that it was all a trick, I feel so naïve to have believed, even just a little bit.
But this cycle, we are doing something totally new. I’ve done acupuncture (which I will write about another time), I’ve taken supplements and I’ve tried old wives tales. This month I take a step into the realm of fertility meds. And with that comes more hope than I have felt in a long time. I’m still afraid to hope. I’m still afraid my body won’t do what nature intended. The negative side of myself says it will be just my luck to fail to conceive this month too even with Clomid. But I must push those thoughts away. This is a step forward. A “normal” cycle length should happen as opposed to my irregular ovulation days and therefore cycles anywhere between 30-50 days. Predicting fertile days won’t be such a long, tedious wait. Clomid may just help any slight hormonal abnormalities that I believe could be one of the reasons for our “infertility”. Clomid may give me a ‘stronger’ ovulation (whatever that means?).
And so, I will centre myself. I will treat myself kindly. I will take on a Zen like state. I will take my Clomid, and hold on tight again for yet another rollercoaster month. Wish me luck. It’s my Clomid day!