CD2, in laymen’s terms, day two of my period. Our last cycle was a bust and freaking AF decided to take her sweet time to get here. She started and stopped then disappeared altogether. F-ing unbelievable! PCOS keeps bringing more and more crap into my life. I get to start my third cycle of Clomid, 150mg. Apparently, my progesterone is not going like they want so they are increasing my dose. I am gonna have to ask if I need to be on progesterone. I am hoping not. My numbers are good, but just not where they want them to be. Bleh.
A year into this process, only a few months on medicated cycles, and I am tired. This is hard work. No one talks about that. No one talks about the let down you have when AF shows up. It’s crushing. It seems like medicated cycles are ridiculous in the false hope they give. It’s unfair almost. I mean, you are being told by a doctor when to sex it up, how often, everything. It is the most unromantic thing ever. I feel like a lab rat. I get it’s a process, and nothing is a sure thing. It’s just exhausting. It’s grueling. I think my body is trying to rebel against all this medicated crap. I know my brain is.
On another note, my MIL is having her mastectomy on Wednesday. She has stage 3 breast cancer and because of her other health issues, the doctors are concerned she may not make it through. If she does, she will most likely wake up in ICU and be in the hospital for some time. After all of that, our house is ground zero for her recovery. She is moving in with us, as well as hubby’s aunt, for the duration. Fertility meds and a recovering patient with hubby’s family in and out of our house, bring on the crazy! I am hoping to make it through alive.