After a ridiculously stressful four day period of not getting a period, testing negative on HPTs and all-around freaking the fuck out that my Asherman's had reared its ugly head, I finally got my period yesterday.
Day 1 was marked by my complete inability to deal with my emotions. I was a basket-case yesterday, which began bright and early in the am, with my attempting to work out to a zumba DVD and learning that my knee is totally not healed. In fact, it's a mess and all of the movement that I used to rock so hard, all of my ability to dance and shake and jump that I took for granted is still elusive. So I moved on to a gentler ballet class video, finished it and sat down to cry for the loss of my former self. When I say cried I mean cried. It just hit me so hard that the molar pregnancy, the Asherman's, the second miscarriage, all of these events were survivable so long as I could get my endorphins up and dance. But now that I can't, I am losing it. Just falling apart physically and emotionally.
Today, Day 2 was marked with the start of my first course of Clomid.
Clomid. Wow. In the world of fertility this is no big deal. While the follicle-stimulating drug has done wonders for many women, at my age it hardly produces miraculous results. As per my usual reasoning, I wonder whether I will be in the fractional percentage for whom the drug produces some nasty side-effects. Perhaps it won't impact me at all. Alternatively, I could become a member of the small percentage who become impregnated with twins. Frankly, it's all too much for my mind to wrap around.
I also anticipate beginning an IUI cycle next week, and we are awaiting the results of Husband's semen analysis. Statistics put the success rate of IUI for a woman my age at around 10%. So I have nothing to warrant getting my hopes up. We have some money tucked away for a few IUIs, but for the near future that will be the end of our road in the world of assisted reproduction.
In 2013 I was a part-time dance teacher who could bounce around to latin dance music to shake the blues away. I am entering 2014 a little pudgier, more stressed out, and on a course of fertility drugs. I feel like a poor facsimile of my former self.