Back to life, back to reality

Hello friends! I’m back from a nice long weekend in the Northeast. I hope everyone had awesome Thanksgivings! We had a couple of wonderful nights with hubs’ family and then we took the bus up to NYC and had a couple of awesome (and rather debaucherous) nights with our college buddies. It was a nice distraction and I must say, five days have never flown by so quickly!

Despite having some much-needed distraction from TTC land, I couldn’t quite escape the baby-maker within me.

A weak week…

Happy Saturday! It was absolutely beaaaautiful in my hometown today. I hit the lake path and had a lovely run under a brilliantly blue sky. I did not feel fast, I felt snail slow, but that was okay: It was a pretty meditative run. As most of them have become over the last few months. All sorts of stuff was going through my head. I’m not exactly bummed about my Progesterone level. I didn’t expect a nice high number. But still, I can’t help but be a little sad that the powerful 50mg dose didn’t do the trick. Isn’t it funny how you can prepare yourself for the bad news, but it still stings?

To recap: Based on what the nurse’s message said, my RE does think I ovulated, my period should come in seven to ten days, and they’re upping my Clomid for the next cycle.

I had a lot of follow up questions for her, but the nurse didn’t call me back on Friday. So I’ve been putting in some quality time toward my PhD in Google. It seems some labs call anything above 2.5 an ovulation, though this level suggests something called “weak ovulation.” (They want Clomid ladies to register a 15ish level 7DPO.)

With ovulation, I thought you either did or you didn’t. I didn’t know there are varying degrees. Apparently you can have enough LH circulating in your body to trigger the release an egg, but if the “surge” isn’t big enough, this can happen before the egg is mature. Seriously? I don’t know why eggs are released before they’re mature. I don’t get it. But, if this happened, it could explain why I never got a positive OPK, why I never “felt” ovulation, and why I had zero CM during this cycle. And so let’s say I did have a gentle ovulation. (I’m imaging my ovary is a sink faucet and instead of gushing water into the basin, it just lets a drip fall.) If the egg isn’t mature/big enough, it doesn’t make enough Progesterone to prepare the endometrium for an implanted egg. So even if conception occurs, the fertilized egg has no chance getting comfy in the womb.

Since my Progesterone level is so low, I’m worried I’m not going to get my period. I haven’t had a period on my own since the first semester of my senior year of college, so it’s hard to trust that it’s going to come this time. If I had a weak ovulation (again, WTF?) or didn’t ovulate (as some labs/REs would surely say), then can I really expect my body to menstruate? My hubs, who has a very science-y mind, thinks the answer is Yes. “It’s the same process as when you’ve taken Provera,” he reasons. “You have enough Progesterone in your system right now that when it dissipates, you’ll get your period.” Oh, how I hope he’s right! Bring on the cramps, bring on the bloating, bring it all…I want my period so I can continue on this journey!

I’m going to do my darndest to not freak out and patiently wait the seven to ten days (now six to nine, but who’s counting?!). I suppose I really shouldn’t stress out because even if my period is a no show then I can always go back on my old friend Provera. But, you know I don’t want to do that! I want my body to do this thing—finish a cycle!—on its own.

Digging in for the long haul

Happy Halloween everyone! I hope you all had some fun tricks and treats yesterday!!!

Here’s a random factoid: A year ago today I was running the New York City Marathon. That’s what was on my mind as I went out for an easy jog along the lake path this morning. I was remembering what a beautiful day it was, how fit I felt, how amazing it was to run across the Verrazano Bridge and begin that 26.2 mile journey. I was smiling every step of the way in the last five miles to the finish line, it was pretty ridiculous. (In a good way!) That was one of the best runs of my entire life—I’m not talking about my finish time, just how good I felt for most of the race. It was like all of my stars aligned that day.

Afterwards, I showered up, stepped my aching quads into jeans and slipped my throbbing feet into some forgivingly comfie boots. And then I joined my hubs at the hotel bar, where we were meeting up with a couple we’ve been friends with, but not super in-touch with since we moved to the Midwest, for years. The girl ordered a Bloody Mary sans alcohol so I knew at once (sorry, but it’s true) that she was preggers. And in fact, it was quite obvious, she was about six months along. It was very exciting. And her smile was as big and happy as the one I couldn’t wipe off my face along on the race course. Our beers and the faux cocktail arrived at the table and we all clinked glasses to cheers their baby girl on the way!

The wrong direction

Well, it’s official: I’m losing hope in this first Clomid cycle. Today is CD15 and the OPK line was lighter than it has been for the past three mornings. So, no “fade-in” pattern afterall. The line was practically not even there…barely any LH in my system, folks. I have to admit, because all of my blood tests have come back normal, and because the Provera always seems “work” (in the sense that I always have withdrawal bleeds within 48 hours of taking the last pill), I was super-hopeful that the 50mg of Clomid would do the trick.

I will call my RE’s office on Tuesday morning. They will take blood on CD21 to check in on my progesterone level,  just to confirm I wasn’t getting bogus OPK readings. I’m certain that I’m not: I have no CM, none of the elusive Mittelschmerz people talk about. The only thing I do have, I think, is some slight crampiness in my ovary regions. I think. Dr. Google tells me this is because FSH and LH are circulating and stimulating my ovaries. But honestly, I could defnitely be imaging this stuff. Or maybe I’m not imaging it, maybe there really is something going on inside, it’s just not enough.

Whatever is up, it’s not turning the OPK positive. So, I’ll give it a few more days, I’ll call the doc, I’ll get the blood test, and then we’ll see what’s next. I’m guessing they’ll want to up my dose to 100mg. For the next go around, I’m going to request some extra monitoring. It seems many REs have a protocol of ultrasounds (for follicle and uterine lining measurements) and trigger shots at the ready. I totally understand why Dr. C didn’t make that part of the plan for the first try. He didn’t want to stress me out, bring me into the office unneccessarily, etc etc. And it was basically a “baseline” cycle. So, fine. The baseline showed I’m going to need a little more help. I want to make sure we’re covering allllll of the bases next time.

I realize all is not lost. There are still a couple of days left before this is officially a bum cycle. But with the line fading in the wrong direction, I’m sort of mentally and emotionally gearing up for whatever could be next…

Reading between the lines

Let’s just say that today is not the beginning of the story. You’re joining me kinda, sorta in the middle. Of my life. Of trying to conceive. Of this cycle.

Today, October 28, 2009, is cycle day 12 (CD12), according to my Reproductive Endocrinologist (RE). We know this because I finished a 10-day round of Provera earlier this month, then started taking a 50mg dose of Clomid on day three (CD3) of (very light) withdrawal bleeding. I finished my fifth and final Clomid pill on CD7 (last Friday). According to my doc, I should start ovulating sometime around CD12–CD14, or five to seven days after my last pill.

Which is why I wasn’t heartbroken to find only a faint line on my Ovulation Predictor Kit test (OPK) this morning. In OPK land, unlike Home Pregnancy Test land, a faint line is a negative. A dark line—one that matches the control line or is even darker—is the real deal, positive. I started testing on CD8—admittedly early, but the nurse at my RE’s office suggested I go ahead and begin then just to make extra-certain I don’t miss my LH surge. There was no line CD8 (Saturday). Ditto for CD9 (Sunday). Come CD10 (Monday), there was a very, very, very faint line. (Hurray, at least there’s something in my system!) By CD11 (Tuesday), the line had darkened ever so slightly. And then, today, CD12, there was an equally faint line—no darker, but no lighter, either. At least there is a line!