Two Words...

Clomid sucks.  No, seriously.  Taking this medication has easily been one of the worst things I've experienced.  I was warned about the side effects but never took them all that seriously.  I should have.

Within the two and a half hour time frame of taking my first dose and going to sleep in a pool of my own tears, I went from feelings of murder, to horrendous sadness, to a giggle fit.  It was seriously a terrifying two and a half hours.  I was not expecting side effects that quickly and I certainly wasn't expecting them to hit me so strongly.

My last day taking this is tomorrow.  Praise the Good Lord in Heaven.  I'm praying and clinging to all the hope and faith I have in me that this works the first time.  I don't know that I can muster the strength to go through this again.  My heart goes out to all the women who suffer through this month after month with no answers and no signs of it getting better.

One last thing I want to talk about tonight.  I want to thank every single person who has text me, called, messaged, or commented.  Infertility is scary.  It isn't fun to think about.  And God knows it's a horrifying thing to talk about.  Every time I hear from someone, I know that someone is learning what infertility is.  They're hearing the heart break, the disappointments, the hope, and the all around feelings of infertility.  And that is what is important. 

 Another huge thank you to someone who has been there for me since day one.  She knows who she is and I am so thankful that no matter what time it is, I can shoot her a message and she will let me know I'm not a psychopath for wondering if I should lock myself in the car to keep my husband safe from my hormone-induced crazies. 

Soon.  It will happen for me.  I know it. 

Crushed.

     I don't even feel as though another word could appropriately describe how I feel right now.  I received an insurance statement a few days ago telling me my most recent appointments and lab work was denied.  I thought this was strange since what I had done fell under my benefits package (well woman preconception appointments as well as lab work).

     I called today to set up my next ultrasound appointment in two weeks to make sure the clomid is doing what it should and the lady on the other end asked me if I was able to pay the $946 up front for the "follicle check up".  WTF?!  HOLD THE PHONE! Did she just say NINE HUNDRED AND FORTY SIX DOLLARS?!  Yeah.  She did.  $946 for maybe 15 minutes of time to put something where the sun don't shine and poke around a bit (Yes, I know it's more than that but you get my drift).  I tried to hold back the tears while on the phone but I don't think it worked well as she apologized.

     So, when I got home (no, I wasn't talking and driving...don't judge me!), I called my insurance company to find out why my claim had been denied.  "You were given a diagnosis of infertility and we don't cover infertility."  WHAT?! EXCUSE ME?!  I had been diagnosed as WHAT?! Clearly, this diagnosis was new to me as I was told I wasn't infertile, I didn't have PCOS or issues with my thyroid.  All my tests result came back NORMAL and I just needed a little eggy boost.  So, as you can imagine, I was a little shocked when the words "Yes, I'm right.  He has your diagnosis listed as infertility."

     So, here I sit.  An hour later.  I think I may finally be cried out, but we'll see.  Depending on what I hear from his office tomorrow I may be going elsewhere with my lady bits in tow.

Is it possible to mourn the loss of something that never really was?