failed first attempt

I just completed my first Clomid cycle and it was unsuccessful. I guess I'd be writing a different kind of blog if it had succeeded. My husband and I have been going to a fertility clinic for several months now in an effort to conceive. I imagined that this would be difficult and while intellectually I might have thought I was prepared, nothing could have prepared my heart.

In case you are not familiar with the process, the way it works is this...On the first day of your period you call the clinic and schedule your day three examination which consists of blood work and an ultrasound. Then you begin taking the Clomid for five days and you wait for ovulation. Around day 13 or so of your cycle (the first day of menstruation being day one) you go back for another ultrasound to see how many follicles you have produced. (I had two this past month so I guess I figured my odds were pretty good. ) They continue to monitor the maturation of the follicles... by the way, there is no guarantee there are eggs in the follicles or healthy eggs for that matter. Then when the follicles are ready, they inject you with something that makes the eggs emerge in preparation for insemination. At that point your man disappears into the special room equipped with several different mediums of pornography. (My husband's always got some wise crack at this point...I'm sure the nurses have heard them all by now). Then they "wash" the specimen and insert it in you. Not very romantic.

So, there you are with your feet propped up staring at the ceiling and imaging the scene from that film you saw in health class years ago where the sperm is sprinting towards the egg, vying for the prize. I can't explain all the technical stuff to you so I'd advise you to go elsewhere if that's what you are seeking.

What I can tell you is that in the past month more strangers have seen my cooter (my technical term) then all the years I spent in college and graduate school combined. My husband constantly reminds me that there is no sex in medicine...but this does little to diminish my discomfort. For the first time in my life I'm actually concerned with the appearance of my cooter. I used to think women who waxed and groomed down there were nuts, vain or masochistic. Being on display for countless doctors has given me cause to ponder a litany of issues I would otherwise have ignored for the rest of my life. I guess that could be a positive result of this emotional process...I'm devoting more time to my cooter.

When it occurred to me to start blogging my thoughts a few hours ago I knew I'd have to create a name for my blog. With an interest in religion I spend a lot of time reading Biblical stories and recently I've thought a lot about Sarah and what it must have been like to be told as an old woman that she would conceive a son. It is said that she laughed. I'm not a religious person by any means. I just figure that if it worked out for Sarah and she was beyond childbearing years, then it'll eventually work for me...I'm still a lot younger than everyone else in that waiting room. Oh and by the way, when I went on-line to find the story of Sarah, I discovered that it happens to be this week's parsha or Torah portion.