I had an ultrasound yesterday. It was CD13 and the doc was checking to see if my follicles were developing and ready for ovulation.
We had a chat before my rendezvous with the dildo cam about what we wanted to do depending on the results. If I was developing and looking like I was close to where I should be, did we want to do a trigger shot of HSG to force the issue? If we did that, did we want to go forward with IUI or attempt to time sex the old fashion way. We had decided that we'd trigger and time it the old fashion way. If I was not developing we had decided that I would change meds. He said that if a woman is "Clomid resistant" they will typically respond better to this other med (for the life of me I cannot remember the name! It is driving me crazy........). We could go that route and it can take a couple of months to impact me and help me ovulate.
Well, it turns out that I did not respond AT ALL. My follicles were the same size they were during my CD4 check up. .82 & .90 Doc said that usually at this stage you would see ovaries with follicles at twice that size. Well shit. That was kind of a kick to the stomach. Honestly I was really surprised not to have any response. The rest of our conversation was mostly a blur because I was just zoned out. However, there was one part that stuck. He said that after we try this medication, if we're not successful we'll need to move on to more 'serious' measures. Hormone therapy, steroids, etc. He said at that time he would need to refer me to a specialist for treatment. It really sunk in then. This whole process has been surreal from the beginning. Like it wasn't possible we were actually talking about my life and my body. That's over. It hit home that this isn't a fluke. I really am damaged goods.
I managed to make it out of the office with J, who of course hasn't stopped talking about how we'll make this work, this medicine will be better than the last, and how it was good to have a plan. I just nodded a long. We'd met at the hospital, so we had to drive home separately. The minute I got in my car I started sobbing. Like hyperventilating, snotty, hiccup crying. WHY!? What did I do so wrong that I deserve this?! Does God know something I don't? Does he know I will be an awful mother or something?
J did his best all evening to cheer me up. He even sat on the edge of the tub while I showered and tried to give me a pep talk. "Well work this out, Sweepea. Please don't be sad. You haven't given up hope, have you?" Broke my heart. So, of course I cried again.
New game plan: take this new medicine next cycle (this cycle is done with as far as I'm concerned), return for another mid-cycle check-up and see how things are going. We'll go the trigger route if they're good and J and I are still chatting about whether or not we'll do IUI vs. naturally timing sex. I'm just going to refuse to think about anything past that until we have to. Denial is a strong survival mechanism.
Have I mentioned recently that this whole thing just SUCKS. I hate it. I hate all of it.