TW3

The title of this post refers to an old BBC programme. Similarities end with the title.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/That_Was_The_Week_That_Was

So it's been a little bit of a hit-and-miss week. First ovulation scan on Tuesday. The pregnant doctor, after waving the Magic Libido-Vanishing Wand, said "hmm." Never a sound you want to hear.
"There is nothing to see on the left," she continued, pushing the probe over to emphasise her point. "And only a very small follicle on the right" (pulls probe over to the other side briskly). "Come back on Friday but do an ovulation test on Thursday."

Despite my misgivings (I have PCOS and seem to always test positive on an OPK, even when I was pregnant - I did a test for a laugh. I didn't get out much during the most recent first trimester), I duly PIAC and yep, tested positive. So I had to go back in for another scan on Thursday morning, it showed zero movement on follicles but the doctor decided I needed to have a blood test. And another scan on Friday. And another blood test on Friday (this time a student nurse who missed the vein twice in my right arm before the supervising nurse stepped in and did a little vein chasing in my left).

Anyway, scans seem to indicate that I am not going to ovulate this month. I have to go in for another scan tomorrow morning to confirm, but the single, non-growing follicle seems to indicate that this has been a complete waste of Clomid.

The news has affected us both in different, yet similar, ways. I have reached for chocolate in all its varied and delicious forms and been on the verge of tears every waking moment. Significant Other has, apparently (thank you for sharing, honey), been "thinking of what might have been had we not met" and yesterday chose to tell me that earlier this year he had looked up an ex-girlfriend ("we went out for a year, I had real hopes but it didn't work out") on F@ceb00k and found that she had married someone else and had a baby ("oh well, but I'm glad she's happy").

He's not a bad person, he's just sad. The past 18 or so months have been tough on both of us, but sometimes I think tougher on him because the fertility problems are mine and not his.

I just wish that he would think things through before he says them.

cl0mid...

...tasty...

ups and downs

An ups and downs day today.
Downs

• Pregnant ladies day at work (Phoebe and Monica). They both work part-time and usually not on Mondays so I was a bit blind-sided when I was caught in the middle of the "thank goodness for the second trimester" talk at the kettle.
• Computer kept crashing every time I tried to save any of my work.
• Goldilocks ate the last of the biscuits and then "forgot" to replace them and Starbucks had run out of Rocky Road bars by 3.30.
• Got into a bit of an arguement with Significant Other over the Ashes highlights - fair enough he didn't want to watch it over dinner but he also kicked up a bit of a fuss when I asked him to record it if I wasn't home in time for the start. I used the Force to make the bus go faster...
• Ran out of croutons and I do love a crunchy salad (oh my god, talk about middle-class angst!!!!)

Ups

• My MP3 player proved my theory that it is intelligent and played almost all my favourite songs on random play on the way home, including "Falling" by McAlmont and Butler which took me straight back to the V Festival of 2002 and dancing in a tent with my best mates Marathon Man and the BFG.
• My internet connection at work being the only one that didn't crash until 1.30 this afternoon so I was able to listen to Test Match Special and keep my cricket-loving colleagues informed as each wicket fell.
• A lovely long chat with Fairy, all about her newly single social life. She's having a great time and she's starting to be happy again, which is just brilliant.
  
• The cricket score and watching the highlights (I won the battle and recorded them).
• Haagen-Dazs strawberry cheesecake ice cream for dessert.
• Realising that tomorrow is my last dose of Clomid for this cycle - fantastic!
  

that Sunday feeling

I'm feeling grumpy and unsettled andI have that "homework not done" Sunday feeling. It doesn't help that

1. Mr Thong and Yappy's Dad are fighting it out downstairs. The dance music won the first round but now the video-game bombing has the advantage
2. The batch of Clomid I have this cycle isn't coated so it tastes really quite disgusting, however quickly I try to knock the tablets back
3. I did an hour of ironing this afternoon but the basket is still overflowing
4. There are no chocolate biscuits left. I think that this upsets me more than anything else...
   

it begins again

We are going to have another cycle of IUI. I have a shiny new box of Clomid and the date for my first ovulation scan and away we go.

I've spent quite a number of hours hanging out in that waiting area (the term "waiting room" being altogether too grand for the partitioned-off section of corridor that it is) and have observed that there seem to be 4 quite distinct groups:
1) the wealthy overseas patients who seem faintly disappointed at first (the waiting area really is uncomfortable) but always come back out from seeing the medical staff smiling and reassured
2) the same-sex couples
3) the young Asian wife and the somewhat older husband
4) the middle-class 40-somethings who used to be called DINKIEs (double income, no kids)

Significant Other and I fall into a sub-group of the last one - the mixed race DINKIEs. We are never the only mixed race couple in the waiting area and on one occasion we were one of 3 matching sets (all Caucasian males and ethnic minority females at that).

Everyone at the clinic is really nice, all the patients are there for the same reason so there is no sense of curiosity or shame. In fact often you see some of the same women each time you go, as these things are quite carefully timed. Invasive and undignified procedures aside, it's not a bad place as clinics go.

But I still really, really, really wish that I wasn't back there again.