Crazy Days

There are days where I feel like I’ve just wondered into crazy town. I look around me and think, “Really, this is life when I’m not dreaming?”

Today…work was crazy. I’ll stop there because I really don’t want to whine. I’d like some wine, but alas I settled for some vodka and a South Beach dried juice pouch. Yes, I’m living the high life.

So here’s what I say to days like today — laugh, laugh, and laugh some more. When you’re stressed to the point of tears, not sure if it’s just you or everyone else out there, when you want to throw, kick, or hurt something, just laugh. When you laugh, what else is there to do. Nothing.

Though, I’d suggest not laughing at your boss when they have a particularly crazy moment. Though entertaining, it usually doesn’t go over well. I’m speaking from experience.

The One Thing I Can’t Do

I can do a lot of things.

I can dance — in just about any style you can think of, though choreographed moves never go well because of my coordination issues.

I can cook reasonably well. Not amazingly, but enough to go, “mmmmm…that’s good.” And I make an awesome apple pie.

I can read music and play the flute. Sometimes at the same time.

I can speak in public, and I’ve got excellent phone etiquette.

I can read a book, talk politics, swim, make homemade pizza and so much more.

But what I can’t do, even with the help of the fertility gods, is ovulate. Just can’t make it happen.

“It’s frustrating.”

That’s what my doctor said when she came in the room with my ultrasound images and announced that after 21 days into my first round of Clomid, I still had tiny follicles. What’s a girl to do?

So, naturally, my immediate first thought was to go home and give my ovaries a strong talking to. I mean after all, there are eggs in there; I can see them. It just won’t let them out.

But I swallowed my ill will and tried hard not to hit the panic button. As my doctor said, there are options available and one way or another something has to work. They can’t stay in there forever. Can they?

Now, I am on my way to round two of the Clomid at a double dose, with the hopes that we can coax a few of those eggs out of their shell. I will admit, all of this is a bit disappointing. Without ovulation, we can’t even get to the trying-to-have-a-baby stage. I can’t even qualify for the race.

But, despite my very negative attitude of late, I am trying really hard to remain positive. Just a minor setback and I could be in a much worse position. As it appears, I have all of the necessary items, and they all look in tip-top shape, so once we get the wheels in motion, my body should be capable of conceiving.

It’s amazing to me that a girl who doesn’t shut up and is always making a spectacle of herself could have chronically shy eggs. If only I could find a way to ply them with some vodka. I’m just kidding. Or maybe….