Bye bye clomid!

No, I don't have any "good news", today is CD2. Bleughh! I was of course holding out for this being one of those stories that goes something like "and believe it or not, just when we decided to ditch the fertility drugs, I found I was already knocked up!". Not so for me. No bun in the oven. Meh.

So this month is going to be totally free of fertility drugs. No horrible shitty clomid. No horrible stingy hcg injections. Hopefully I will start feeling a little less down and a little more energetic. Part of me is still holding out for the off chance that we will just spontaneously hit target all of a sudden. But if it hasn't happened after almost a year of ttc on clomid, I don't think it's going to happen au naturel.

This Saturday I'm going to Dublin for my brother's 50th birthday party. He's decided to make it an early evening gathering, so as to be a family friendly bash. Cue Jane being the only one rocking up to the party without an ankle biter or a teenage offspring in tow. I'm already laying bets in my head as to how many drinks I will be down before someone, an in law or friend of the host who I haven't seen in several years, asks the question "so do you have any kids, Jane?" and I give them the inevitable answer, while trying to keep a pleasant smile on my face "No..."
Guaranteed to kill the conversation stone dead every time.

Here we go again.

I was awoken this morning around 5.45 with period pains. Ding ding, clomid round ten begins.

Hello 2010

It's official, our last chance for a 2009 baby has left the building, as the painters entered it this afternoon. This coming month also marks the start of our fourth year of trying to conceive (including the medically enforced year off to get my hormones up to scratch).

I can't believe it's three years since we started all this. It was April 2006, we had just moved into our new house, John turned 40 and was made permanent in his job, and we knew it was now or never time. Little did we think that we would still have an empty house three years on.

I really had a good feeling about this month. We gave it our all. Took a weeks holidays to relax and dedicate ourselves to the cause. To put it bluntly, we went at it like rabbits. I had all the symptoms. I was so sure. As soon as I saw the temp drop yesterday morning I knew. I tested anyway last night, just in case, since I wasn't feeling at all crampy and my boobs were killing me. BFN. Temperature was down again this morning. Cramps started around 11am.

So we're looking at 2010 at the earliest, if we are lucky. I think the worst thing about this right now is not knowing when it's going to end. I just want a normal life where I am not stuffing my gob with supplements and vitamins and fertility drugs all the time. Where we don't have to figure out how to pack and transport my hcg shots, which have to be kept refrigerated, every time we want to go on a weekend away or a holiday. Where I'm not constantly knicker watching and counting cycle days. Where we are normal people with a normal family life and not the childless freaks whom everyone feels sorry for.

Ouch

Hangovers and period pain do not make for a good mix.

Same shit, different month

15 DPO today. I have been checking my temps every morning for the past week or so. It was constant at 36.8+, it dropped to 36.58 this morning, signalling that the end is nigh for this cycle. Even though I held out little hope after ovulation that this would be our month, due to my knackered back and John's cold putting a bit of a brake on the baby making, there was still this "hmmmmm...maybe" glimmer at the back of my mind.

I blame the hcg injections myself. They are the instigators of fake symptoms which trick me every time. Two injections into the cycle and I am piddling like a puppy (well not all over the kitchen floor, but the same regularity), feeling a bit on the tired side, with mildly aching boobs. I try and ignore it all for the first week of the two week wait. Then on the second week, the "maybe" thoughts start creeping in. It only took us one go in the past..... But then by the end of the second week (around about now) the hcg has worked it's way out of my system, and the symptoms have disappeared, along with my optimism.

Sometimes I wonder are we mad to keep going at our age. I will be 40 at the end of May and John is three years older than me. In saying that, I think we are quite young in our appearance and in our ways for a couple our age. But my eggs don't know that I have young looking skin and that I like to shop in Oasis, they're still 40 year old eggs. And by the time our kids would be in their teens, we would be in our mid 50's. That's provided it happens for us soon.

The other thing that saddens me is that this has taken over three out of the first four years of our married life together. Early married life should be more fun than this. It shouldn't be about fertility drugs, mood swings, injections, timetable sex, disappointment, worry and anxiety. It just feels like we are on this non stop treadmill and we daren't press the stop button. It feels more and more difficult to keep going, but the consequences of stopping are just too hard to contemplate.

Auntie Flo is a bitch from hell

Why do periods have to be so goddam painful? It's enough that they show up when you least want them, taunting you "na-na-nee-na-naaaaaa, you're not pregnant", but they back that up with crippling back pain, belly ache and general all over shitty feeling. I just want to curl up into a corner and cry today.

I know, it's only two months since we got the go ahead to try again, and I shouldn't be expecting it to happen for us straight away, but in April it will be three fucking years since we started trying to conceive. Three years. There's a couple I know expecting their second baby who hadn't even gotten together when we started ttc. And we are still stuck in this shitty never ending rut. And I'm going to be 40 in just over 4 months time. It's not fair. This was supposed to be our happy ending. Why is it so easy for some people and so very hard for others?

That old familiar crampy feeling

Yuck. The unwanted visitor is on its way, bang on time on 17dpo. I'm nothing if not consistant. We're looking at round eight of clomid. Is it my imagination, or do these pills taste more and more bitter as the months pass?

I think I'm going to have a date with a hot water bottle, a shed load of chocolate and a trashy mag or two tonight.

I'm dreaming of a red Christmas

There's no other way to say it, the red menace is on its way. I'm in bits with period pain, which isn't good on Christmas Eve when I am running around like a blue arsed fly icing Christmas cakes, doing last minute shopping (mainly booze to drown the sorrows), washing floors and making trifle.

To all the lovely bloggy friends I made this year, thank you all for your support in the past few months. Have a very happy Christmas, and may all your wishes come true in the coming year.

I've a bottle of Veuve Cliquot in the fridge with my name on it. Not for any reason of celebration, but just because I can drink on Christmas day. Slainte!