I'm currently on letrazole for a week or so, since I will NEVER go back to clomid. The side effects are much easier on letrazole, but not non-existent still (and I don't think cancer is as possible with letrazole). I may not be feeling any, to be honest.
But I'm going to blame my pissiness of late on the drug, and not my general nature. I like to think that I usually let things roll off my back, but for some reason I was REALLY mad last night.
And who knows, maybe I'll look back at one night of anger and long for something so simple. And at least I didn't have to punch a wall or person or cat to feel better. Maybe Husband has noticed worse side effects.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Thursday, January 28, 2010
A little preparation
So while I wait for the drugs to take effect and make a baby inside me I've been focusing on things I can control and change to maybe encourage such baby making. Since I've got this extra time, I figured that I can focus on being as healthy as possible so that when the doctor impregnates me (with husband's sperm, I hope) the environment will be the most hospitable for growing life. It helps to have goals and takes my mind off the maddening procedures and tests and disappointments and other things that I can't control so much.
I have been taking my prenatal vitamins regularly for the past several months. I usually get frustrated with the lack of pregnancy and quit for weeks at a time, but I guess I finally realized that won't help.
I exercise regularly. Mostly running. Outside whenever possible, but on the treadmill when it's too cold or rainy or snowing. Even in NY I've had some days this winter when I've been able to run outside.
Husband and I gave us soda, candy and chips for the year, which should help me avoid gestational diabetes and a child who is born pre-hyped up on sugar.
I eat yogurt almost everyday, if it's in the house. I don't really like yogurt, but I've been told that it can help with the whole hospitable environment issue. And I had to replace my morning candy break with something.
These are the physical things I've been doing to prepare my body for growing a baby, but I'm also emphasizing the spiritual and mental as well, but more on those later.
And it brightened my morning when I ran into a friend in the parking lot of the doctor's office. It's always good to know I'm not doing this alone, in so many ways.
I have been taking my prenatal vitamins regularly for the past several months. I usually get frustrated with the lack of pregnancy and quit for weeks at a time, but I guess I finally realized that won't help.
I exercise regularly. Mostly running. Outside whenever possible, but on the treadmill when it's too cold or rainy or snowing. Even in NY I've had some days this winter when I've been able to run outside.
Husband and I gave us soda, candy and chips for the year, which should help me avoid gestational diabetes and a child who is born pre-hyped up on sugar.
I eat yogurt almost everyday, if it's in the house. I don't really like yogurt, but I've been told that it can help with the whole hospitable environment issue. And I had to replace my morning candy break with something.
These are the physical things I've been doing to prepare my body for growing a baby, but I'm also emphasizing the spiritual and mental as well, but more on those later.
And it brightened my morning when I ran into a friend in the parking lot of the doctor's office. It's always good to know I'm not doing this alone, in so many ways.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Village Court and Walmart
Husband here. There's no real news on the fertility front. I did want to take a moment to make a point about something that's been bothering me. I'm not sure if Wife has mentioned this in the past but it is something that has become acutely aware to me over the last week. If Wife and I had got drunk and fornicated at 15 years old, we would undoubtedly have gotten pregnant.
Now I know this happens to people and I'm in no way trying to attack people who have had this experience and made something of their life. To them I congratulate wholeheartedly. Likewise, to those teen mothers and fathers who give their children up for adoption, I cannot help but admire your bravery in the face of adverse circumstances. Nor do I mean to imply by doing things the "right" way we have undermined our own reproductive potential.
That said, I went to traffic court this past week. I was most definitely guilty of the charges made (talking on my cell phone while driving, stupid New York), and sheepishly paid my fine. But while there, I couldn't help but do a little people watching of my fellow criminals. I'm not sure if it was the gut wrenching body odor of the lovely man sitting two seats next to me, the vulgar diatribes of the underfed meth addicts in the corner, or the incessant whining of the juvenile offender about how he couldn't afford a speeding ticket on his $8/hr income, but I came to a realization that there are entirely too many people in this world. Worse is that the relative fertility of these less than savory characters is exponentially greater than my own.
This then brings me to pointing out a flaw in Darwin's theory of natural selection. I can think of no biological imperative that would cause a species to select for its stupidest members in terms of their fecundity. At the current rate of growth of this other half of the human population, I can't help but fear that in 10 years time Dan Brown or Stephenie Meyer (I stand corrected) will be considered fine literature. But wait we're already there................NO!!!!
Oh and for visual evidence of this, our dear friend Lissa turned me on to this website.
Now I know this happens to people and I'm in no way trying to attack people who have had this experience and made something of their life. To them I congratulate wholeheartedly. Likewise, to those teen mothers and fathers who give their children up for adoption, I cannot help but admire your bravery in the face of adverse circumstances. Nor do I mean to imply by doing things the "right" way we have undermined our own reproductive potential.
That said, I went to traffic court this past week. I was most definitely guilty of the charges made (talking on my cell phone while driving, stupid New York), and sheepishly paid my fine. But while there, I couldn't help but do a little people watching of my fellow criminals. I'm not sure if it was the gut wrenching body odor of the lovely man sitting two seats next to me, the vulgar diatribes of the underfed meth addicts in the corner, or the incessant whining of the juvenile offender about how he couldn't afford a speeding ticket on his $8/hr income, but I came to a realization that there are entirely too many people in this world. Worse is that the relative fertility of these less than savory characters is exponentially greater than my own.
This then brings me to pointing out a flaw in Darwin's theory of natural selection. I can think of no biological imperative that would cause a species to select for its stupidest members in terms of their fecundity. At the current rate of growth of this other half of the human population, I can't help but fear that in 10 years time Dan Brown or Stephenie Meyer (I stand corrected) will be considered fine literature. But wait we're already there................NO!!!!
Oh and for visual evidence of this, our dear friend Lissa turned me on to this website.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Terminology
Is it still a pregnancy scare when you are trying to get pregnant? Shouldn't there be another term for it? Like
False hope
Pregnancy tease
A cruel joke
or Just plain $^!++#
(I bleeped that last one because my mom sometimes reads this blog and I don't want to lose her respect)
Any other ideas?
Pregnancy tease
A cruel joke
or Just plain $^!++#
(I bleeped that last one because my mom sometimes reads this blog and I don't want to lose her respect)
Any other ideas?
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Your Husband Is Evidently Not A Man
Husband here making an unusual appearance at mybrokenuterus. Now I thought about creating a brother site (cos I'm a dude of course) entitled mybrokentestes, but I thought it wouldn't get the kind of traffic I'd like....and well, I'm emasculated enough without reading the comments a site with that kind of name would get.
Now let us go onwards to the point of this post. God has a fantastic sense of humor. One need only look at some of the fantastically ugly things in this world to realize that. For example duck-billed platypi (I'm sure I pluralized that wrong), Patrick Ewing, and the whole state of Nevada are all things only a mother could love. In Nevada's case that would be a drunken abusive mother, but I digress.
For me personally this whole infertility thing has been a revelation of divine humor, what follows will show this fact in clear and probably too vivid detail.
Now let me get it out of the way first by stating that I'm fine. Our first fertility doctor even told me that I'd be an ideal donor candidate, if you know what I mean. The nurses and doctor in this round of treatment were not quite as effulgent in praise of my man seed. They said my volume and shape was average, but....
Now anytime you're in fertility treatment and a doctor or nurse utters the word "but" you know the other shoe is about to drop. In this case the shoe was made of lead and it was aimed directly at my groin. But they said, I'm a bit on the low side of average in terms of testosterone.
So evidently I've got an ample sample but they'd all rather sit around watching the Lifetime Movie Network than swim to the goal. That's fine though I can deal with that. The treatment obviously would be something to boost my T-levels, like hunting, or watching Nascar, or enjoying a Jean-Claude Van Damme movie marathon right? Nope. Instead they did the most obvious medical thing, they put me on Clomid.
(I pause in this account for you to recover yourself and possible change your pants if you've wet yourself)
Over the years we've had many friends (always female) who have needed to go on Clomid to conceive. One of these friends I believe threatened her husband with a steak knife while on the drug. If you know me personally you also know that I have the emotional range of a 15 year old house cat. Yeah I know emotions are out there, but seriously I'd much rather nap in the sun than express my feelings.
So it was with much trepidation that I began my Clomid regiment. The first 27 days or so were fine. I didn't pull a knife on my wife, I didn't rent any more Hugh Grant movies than normal, and I certainly didn't express my emotions more than usual. Then came day 28.
I'm not sure what set it off but all of the sudden my emotions went out of control. I was convinced Wife was against me. I was sad, angry, happy, frustrated all simultaneously. Not to mention the fact that I had an insatiable desire for ice cream.
By the morning things were back to normal, but let this be a lesson to all you women out there. If you want your husband to know what a period is like, just put him on a monthly cycle of clomid. Seriously honey any time you want we can stay at home and watch Oprah.
Epilogue:
The most amusing part of this whole event is that after they took the additional blood work following my Clomid cycle, they never gave me any results to tell me if it made me more of a man. At least it didn't get me pregnant!
Now let us go onwards to the point of this post. God has a fantastic sense of humor. One need only look at some of the fantastically ugly things in this world to realize that. For example duck-billed platypi (I'm sure I pluralized that wrong), Patrick Ewing, and the whole state of Nevada are all things only a mother could love. In Nevada's case that would be a drunken abusive mother, but I digress.
For me personally this whole infertility thing has been a revelation of divine humor, what follows will show this fact in clear and probably too vivid detail.
Now let me get it out of the way first by stating that I'm fine. Our first fertility doctor even told me that I'd be an ideal donor candidate, if you know what I mean. The nurses and doctor in this round of treatment were not quite as effulgent in praise of my man seed. They said my volume and shape was average, but....
Now anytime you're in fertility treatment and a doctor or nurse utters the word "but" you know the other shoe is about to drop. In this case the shoe was made of lead and it was aimed directly at my groin. But they said, I'm a bit on the low side of average in terms of testosterone.
So evidently I've got an ample sample but they'd all rather sit around watching the Lifetime Movie Network than swim to the goal. That's fine though I can deal with that. The treatment obviously would be something to boost my T-levels, like hunting, or watching Nascar, or enjoying a Jean-Claude Van Damme movie marathon right? Nope. Instead they did the most obvious medical thing, they put me on Clomid.
(I pause in this account for you to recover yourself and possible change your pants if you've wet yourself)
Over the years we've had many friends (always female) who have needed to go on Clomid to conceive. One of these friends I believe threatened her husband with a steak knife while on the drug. If you know me personally you also know that I have the emotional range of a 15 year old house cat. Yeah I know emotions are out there, but seriously I'd much rather nap in the sun than express my feelings.
So it was with much trepidation that I began my Clomid regiment. The first 27 days or so were fine. I didn't pull a knife on my wife, I didn't rent any more Hugh Grant movies than normal, and I certainly didn't express my emotions more than usual. Then came day 28.
I'm not sure what set it off but all of the sudden my emotions went out of control. I was convinced Wife was against me. I was sad, angry, happy, frustrated all simultaneously. Not to mention the fact that I had an insatiable desire for ice cream.
By the morning things were back to normal, but let this be a lesson to all you women out there. If you want your husband to know what a period is like, just put him on a monthly cycle of clomid. Seriously honey any time you want we can stay at home and watch Oprah.
Epilogue:
The most amusing part of this whole event is that after they took the additional blood work following my Clomid cycle, they never gave me any results to tell me if it made me more of a man. At least it didn't get me pregnant!
Friday, April 17, 2009
My name is Carolyn and I'm on drugs
Probably the hardest thing for me in all this is how no one has ever found anything wrong with me. The dr. even gave my tubes an A and he never gives anyone's tubes an A. So I don't know if there's really nothing wrong with me, or there is something so wrong that our modern medicine cannot find it yet. In 30 or 50 years maybe, but not yet.
Because there's nothing "wrong" with me, doctors cannot treat me for any disease of malformation. Instead, they treat my symptom of not being able to get pregnant.
I do need to interject here that I am very happy with my dr. and everyone in his office and I know they are doing the best they can with the available knowledge. But here are some of the drugs I've been prescribed, along with wording from their packages. I'm one of those people who reads every word accompanying a prescription, but maybe its better not knowing.
Letrazole-"not to be used in women of childbearing age" (this one caused spotting every day I took it)
Prometrium-"used to restore normal menstrual periods that have stopped for several months" (not a problem for me)
Chorionic Gonado-"hormone used in boys (before puberty) to cause the normal dropping of the testicles into the scrotum" (there's more here but this is sufficient for my readers)
Estradiol-"may increase your risk of . . . dimentia"
I haven't had to take them all yet, but I have to have them on hand in case. I see it as part of my food storage. If bad times come we can all subsist on fertility meds, right? And Goya.
Because there's nothing "wrong" with me, doctors cannot treat me for any disease of malformation. Instead, they treat my symptom of not being able to get pregnant.
I do need to interject here that I am very happy with my dr. and everyone in his office and I know they are doing the best they can with the available knowledge. But here are some of the drugs I've been prescribed, along with wording from their packages. I'm one of those people who reads every word accompanying a prescription, but maybe its better not knowing.
Letrazole-"not to be used in women of childbearing age" (this one caused spotting every day I took it)
Prometrium-"used to restore normal menstrual periods that have stopped for several months" (not a problem for me)
Chorionic Gonado-"hormone used in boys (before puberty) to cause the normal dropping of the testicles into the scrotum" (there's more here but this is sufficient for my readers)
Estradiol-"may increase your risk of . . . dimentia"
I haven't had to take them all yet, but I have to have them on hand in case. I see it as part of my food storage. If bad times come we can all subsist on fertility meds, right? And Goya.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
I am afraid...
...that all this will work and I'll get pregnant...that all this will not work and I won't get pregnant...that I'll only ever have one kid...that I won't be able to carry a baby to term...that I won't get my body back after having a kid...that it will negatively affect my relationship with Husband...that I'm not emotionally strong enough to handle this...that I won't be a good mother...that my kid will be THAT kid...that I won't have a kid until I'm 40...that I won't have the patience...that labor will be too painful...that I won't be able to breastfeed.
Ah, it feels good to get that off my chest.
In exciting news, we might have a guest blogger at mybrokenuterus soon.
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