Another post written during my IUI cycle, this was day seven. This was about as far as I got with writing during this cycle. I started a few posts on other days but didn’t get very far. I think it’s safe to say this one was at the height of everything I was going through during that cycle. It was, to sum it up, a bag of chuckles. Crazy, hysterical, creepy clown, chuckles.
If there’s one thing I can be sure of it’s this, I am winning at fake pregnancy symptoms. Hands down.
I’ve had all the main side effects of Clomid and Ovidrel. FANTASTIC. The Clomid has my belly blown up to an impressive size. I’ve also been really thirsty. I mean THIRS.TY. Like drink THREE 32 oz bottles of Gatorade and TWO 32 oz bottles of water and I will still be thirsty. Thanks to Ovidrel (the trigger shot that releases the eggs) I am experiencing strong pregnancy symptoms all day, every day. The trigger shot symptoms are supposed to last for 10 days. The end of these 10 days cannot come fast enough; for everyone in the Robinson household. Here are my fun daily symptoms:
– Morning nausea: Frozen fruit, coffee, almond milk… you name it, I gag over it. EVEN DONUTS! So rude.
– The need to pee every 30 minutes
– Bloated. I mean, BLOAT.ED. There were four grape sized follicles in my ovaries people, what do you expect.
– I have a witching hour. Daily. Right around 4p. I get insanely and irrationally angry. Like I am some faux-pregosaurus-rex. With my angry little arms flailing about, screaming at everyone in my path, destroying things, roaring in an incomprehensible manner. I cannot tell you how many people I have to apologize to at 8p every night. It is awful. I consider it a victory that my friends and family, and most notably my husband, are still in tact.
– I am exhausted. All of the time.
– I cry. A lot. Over the littlest things. The workout socks I wanted were not clean, cue crying. I forgot some limes at the store to go with my homemade enchiladas, cue crying. I saw a pregnant woman, cue crying. I saw Edder, cue crying. I felt nauseated by gelato, cue crying. I am tired and frustrated with my fake pregnancy, cue crying.
So that’s where I am right now. In faux-pregosaurus-rex hell. Screaming and flailing, exhausted and just generally a total disaster. I need a tranq-dart. Preferably one made for Hippo’s. Just knock me the eff out. PLEASE.
Needless to say (again) that medicated IUI cycle didn’t work. But it was a learning experience and now we know what to expect… clearly that is a faux-pregosaurus-rex. At least I’ll be able to better rationalize it all next time, knowing it’s just part of the deal. There have been a few cycles that we’ve gone through since the IUI. They were natural cycles though, and I wrote about those as well. I would love to say there isn’t a lot of heartbreak in those coming posts… but I can’t.
Infertility is such a gigantic ho-bag.