Yes, still crying but for a different reason

Today, my dear friends, is CD1. Another month lost. I held very little hope for this month since I had nothing in the way of pregnancy symptoms.....

Who wants to have a baby in the cold and lonely months of January and be stuck in the house on maternity leave, shut in due to snow and ice? Right?

RIGHT?

But I would be lying if I said I wasn't sad. There's nothing like a failed cycle to ruin a good mood.

The good news is (yes, there's a glimmer of good news) that I should be able to fit in my b/w and my u/s before we leave for Colorado next Wednesday. I was a bit concerned about the timing but AF seems to have put that worry to rest - it is the least that she can do, that little bitch.

Given the near-certainty that we will be moving on to Clo.mid in June, my mind is busy with all kinds of thoughts and questions. I will map them out below to help me to feel less overwhelmed by them. Just a warning that they will have the unorganized nature of the type of ramblings for which I am an expert!

(First, I want to thank all of you for your fantastic comments on yesterday's post! I plan to revisit them regularly as we move forward with treatment to help me sort my thoughts and feelings.)

Given that today is CD1, the last cycle was 27 days. I need to find my calendar from last year and take a closer look, but I believe that my most common cycle length was 26-27 days, with 25 and 28 days being the exceptions rather than the rule. That reality seems to fit with a luteal phase defect diagnosis.

Thanks to your comments, I am now feeling better about moving on to Clo.mid. It's certainly not an evasive step and, since I am not one to turn down a simple pill to help with a medical problem, it won't be much different than the allergy meds and anti-depressant that I take daily. Of course, the side effects will be different but the effort involved won't be.

I can't shake the feeling that I am fabricating an ailment. Maybe somehow I have not timed things correctly despite the fact that we try every 24 -48 hours over the 7-day period that I believe to be the fertile window. Maybe I just need to be more patient with the process. Maybe I am overreacting.

Maybe I will take fertility meds successfully and in 20 years the medical community will declare that they cause cancer. And I will regret having used them instead of waiting for my body to figure things out on its own OR for me to have an incredibly long (and bizarre) cycle and get pregnant naturally (like my cousin has just done.) In November, when I got pregnant (unsuccessfully, of course), I ovulated late in my cycle. Maybe my body can find its way to that point again.

Maybe getting pregnant (well, at least getting half of the way there) in November was a fluke and my body simply can't do it on its own.

Maybe I will take fertility meds and, instead of getting pregnant, develop a medical condition caused by the drugs.

Or, just as bad, maybe something significant is wrong with me and we have only touched the tip of the iceberg.

As all of us know, and as I was nicely reminded by a blogger yesterday (thanks, von!), you can only deal with what is in front of you. I chuckled to myself last night as I gave the same advice to my close friend who is deciding whether or not to leave her job and go to graduate school. She was running through all of the possible dire scenarios (yes, she could be my twin!) and I said, before I could catch myself as the hypocrite that I am, "you only have a certain amount of control over what will happen. Even if something goes wrong, and you have regrets, what's the worst that can happen? You will grow and move on."

And, once I confessed to my personal hypocrisy, I used the IF community as an example of the wonderful developments that can come from painful challenges. I told her what so many of us have said, that no one wants to have to join the club but, once we are here, we are so grateful for the support and love that we discover.

Taking Clo.mid does not mean that I cannot make decisions each cycle about what types of treatment I am comfortable with. It doesn't mean, as my mind likes to assume, that I will tomorrow be preparing for ER for an IVF cycle. I know that I am just not ready for that.

My inability to self-trust, a well-ingrained characteristic, is rearing its ugly head here.

I need to trust myself to make decisions that are right for me and for Mr. LIW. And I need to accept that something that I always assumed I could do on my own may require medical intervention. It's yet another sign that perfection is out of my grasp.

But, as a former (incredibly imperfect) therapist once said to me, "Who wants to be perfect? People hate perfect people."

That may or may not be true, but I have learned that I can be loved as the imperfect person that I am. That it is ok to get medical help even if I have not followed a perfect protocol of temperature charts and OPK results for 12 months or more. That I DON'T have to be perfect to ask a medical expert to help me achieve a goal imbued with a desire to create a loving environment for a little person(s) growing up in a difficult world.

I just have to trust my instincts that a reproductive part of me needs tweaking to get it to do its job. That, no matter what happens, Mr. LIW and I will parent the child(ren) that we are meant to call our own. And that we will be better, more loving and accepting people, for it.