When my dear Aunt Flo shows, I know it is CD1 and time to
call the RE to schedule an appointment. 
A new cycle means new hopes – or let downs.  And this last cycle was definitely a letdown.   My first
Clomid Cycle combined with an IUI was not successful.  Why? Who knows!  All I know is that it’s another month down
the drain.

Now, the RE has me on
150 mg of Clomid (three 50 mg pills at night), instead of the 100 mg I was on
last cycle.   The last time we met, both
of the RE’s we see stated they would take me off of Clomid due to the headaches
I experienced when taking it.  The
headaches weren’t horrible, and since I’d have to order a 30-day supply of
Femara because I am no longer able to pick it up at a pharmacy, it made sense
to just put me right back on Clomid.  Her
words were “I don’t want to make you miserable, so let me know if you
experience anything worse than headaches.” 
If the higher dose of Clomid doesn’t work, one of my RE’s stated they’d
put me on injectables, which is a more aggressive approach.   At this point, I’d try anything.
To make things even more exciting (insert sarcasm), I found
out that my both my iron and Vitamin D levels are low.   With everything going on right now, I think
I know I need a vacation.   A beach vacation sounds nice!  At least some fun in the sun will help in increasing
my Vitamin D levels.  In the meantime, I’ve
picked up 2000 mg Vitamin D supplements from the Vitamin Shoppe.  I didn’t pick up any extra iron supplements because
I need to find something that doesn’t make me constipated.  Any suggestions?
So…Umm, yeah… we’re just going to pretend like I’m not here
struggling with [secondary] infertility…

I rarely throw myself a pity party, but, oftentimes I’m
subjected to listening to others, so spare me a minute while I do just that –
give myself a big ole pity party with lots of wine, champagne and margaritas.  Besides, I think I deserve it.  At 29, I never thought that this would be
part of my life’s story.  For whatever
messed up reason, it is.
Just because we already have one child, whom we both love
very much, does not mean we don’t want another one.  We’d love for mini me to have a sibling.  I mean, my husband and I both reserve the
right to be disappointed that there’s a possibility that we can’t expand our
family … or even for me to give him a son or another daughter.   So
tell me why can’t we be deeply appreciative for having what we have but still
want more? Why do we lose that
right? I feel like when people say things like “You already have (insert mini
me’s name)” or “People go through worse things.” Completely diminishes and
disregards my feelings, and is, excuse my “French”, fucked up!  At the same time, no amount of sympathizing or
[fake] concern can make up for how I feel as a result of what I’m going
I still have to function as a “normal” person – a wife, a
mom, a sister, a friend – when things that used to be normal in my life just
aren’t.  My whole life right now is consumed with getting pregnant; weekly doctor’s appointments, fertility drugs, sonograms etc. I’m grateful for the two week “break”
I get after ovulation.  It really isn’t a
break since I’m left to wonder, during those two weeks, if the egg was fertilized and implanted.  But, a break from not having to wake up early
for blood work, ultra sounds, and setting game plans for the cycle is a break, nonetheless.   
Now, let us get back to me being able to functioning as a “normal”
person.  When you’re struggling with – Uggh!
I hate even using this term –  infertility, the very last thing you want to do
is attend, plan or help plan someone else’s baby shower, especially when you’re
a few months away from what would have been your due date.  Baby showers are a painful reminder of what’s
not happening for people struggling with conceiving.   And this
year, I’ve been so lucky to have at least five showers to attend, and one I had
to help plan.  No, I am not complaining,
but so what if I am!  And no, it doesn’t
mean I am not happy for these couple either because I am.  It just means that I feel sad, cheated, and
frustrated by my own situation. 
Remember, I have feelings, too.  I
think people forget that.
And I’m so sick of people coming to me and asking me why I
didn’t tell them or speak with them about it. I don’t want to or maybe I do,
but I know that it isn’t an easy or comfortable conversation to have. Instead
of taking things personally, just ask me how I am doing.  It costs you nothing to ask.  Even though you may get a generic “I’m doing
well.” At least I know you asked and maybe care.

The question: “Oh, are you pregnant?”  are not at all helpful, people!  And the last one, which was asked by my mom,
just threw me over the edge. Over the edge! I feel
badly about the way I responded, but my God! Learn how to speak to people.  Yes, I’ve put on weight which is more than
likely due to a combination of the medication, bloating from my period, and my sedentary
lifestyle, but that doesn’t mean I’m pregnant. 
The reaching out to touch my fat, non-pregnant belly, especially without
asking me was just way too much – for me. 
I blame the hormones. 
And this, my friends, is the end of my pity party.  No, I am not drunk!

I think I’m going to be saying this often.  

Check out this article “Secondary Infertility Becoming More Common

This is a great photo journal created by a couple that struggled for 6 years to get pregnant – Our Six Year Fertility Journey: The Struggles, Heartache and Triumph