We're all well again (finally!) sorry I've been lax about posting. Grad school is eating up all my fun computer time. I can't even tell you how behind I am on my blog-reading, much less posting. If not for my Twitter-fox popping up in my browser I'd feel totally disconnected from all my bloggy pals.
As for something different than a discussion of bodily functions...oh, well actually this is about that too...
Basically we've been trying to score a baby brother or sister for Nicky for a while now. We tried the "now that you've had a baby you're body will understand what to do and you'll get pg without help" method. No go.
We've tried the jump on and off the pill just to see if it works. Nope.
We've tried just the Metformin alone. Uh uh.
We've tried the magical mystical Metformin/Clomid combination that scored us Nicky for THREE full cycles. Nada. Nothing. Zip. Zero.
Ovaries: "No eggs for you!"
Now we're on a break for at least one cycle. I was too busy last week with being sick to even think about calling to see what we'd do next so I don't even know what my next steps will be. I'm still on the Metformin, so I suppose it's possible (though remotely) that just that could result in an egg drop, but I'll not be holding my breath.
Depressing as it is, and it is, I do have to say that infertility issues this time are not anywhere NEAR as painful as they were before we had Nicky. I've read on message boards and such that secondary infertility, or problems having a subsequent child, were just as horrible as trying to have your first. I privately doubted it, but didn't ever say so, since from my perspective of having no kids I couldn't really tell what someone could be going through.
But I am standing up now and proclaiming that once you've had one child, infertility is NOT the same. Because you know what? I can pee on my stick, see that lonely single line and then go hug my boy. Even if we never get pregnant again, I have been able to experience pregnancy and childbirth and have my precious boy. It just doesn't hurt as much this time.
Now I'm not trying to be cavalier about someone's very real pain. Infertility does hurt. It hurts to feel betrayed by your body, to feel you have a piece of yourself, your family, missing. But from my point of view, from having 11 years of no pregnancy, no baby, and after a while, no hope of a baby...well this isn't nearly as bad.
But it still sucks.