So Round Two was at 100 mg of Clomid. I track my ovulation through temping which means I wake up every morning and take my temperature. Come hell or high water. I take my temperature every morning before doing anything else. I might need to pee so bad I can’t see straight but I’ve got to wait the 30 seconds to take my temperature. It sounds minuscule but it’s a major pain in my ass. EVERY. MORNING. It’s relentless. The thermometer isn’t always accurate and must be checked before moving, which requires the lights being turned on. And sometimes (read all the time) I worry that I might have moved too much and skewed the temperature. It’s just a constant that I don’t remember hating as much the first time around.
Oh and to clarify because I was asked once, I take my temperature orally. Not vaginally. Ahem.
Anyways, the cycle was pretty uneventful I thought. There were lots of pings, as I call them. I know that there was some activity in the ovary-region but nothing on the temperature chart. Also there was no indication in my cervical mucus.
But when I went in for my appointment with the doctor he was fairly certain that I did ovulate. So they took blood and two days later they asked that I go in again for more blood work, in case I ovulated late. A glimmer of hope and a sliver of maybe. But then nothing. Nada.
For me there is discomfort when I’m on Clomid, physically and emotionally. Bloating, lower back pain, and the pings that don’t stop, they are like constant reminders that something is trying to happen. Every pang and twinge is a promise that you will see your dream realized. It’s hard on your psyche to feel everything and not have the promise fulfilled. It’s hard not to think that it’s your fault that it’s not working. I know rationally that this is not within my control, as hard of a pill that is to swallow, but my heart aches.
We, Juanito and me, talk about the second baby. We plan for her and envision her in our lives. Yes, her because it’s not so much a secret that we really want a girl. We make plans for the future including her, like we will plan a trip to Disneyland when our second is old enough to enjoy it. We asked The Boy if he wants a baby. Sometimes he does and other times he is indifferent. Juanito talks about the second more than when we were trying for The Boy. I think Juanito feels there is an insurance that we'll get pregnant again since we did before. Its just a matter of time. But I can’t fully commit to this with Juanito. I feel like I stand with one foot in and another foot out. Precariously perched.
Sometimes I’m so scared of giving into the want of a second child. It’s as if I were to let go and believe that it were to happen, the crushing realization of nature saying NO will be too much for me to bear. So here I am straddling a fence between accepting what I have and wanting more. I am wordlessly and cautiously holding my heart out to the universe. Please see what is inside my heart and make it so.