Posted in Clomid


Blessed is he who expects nothing, for he shall never be disappointed. –Alexander Pope

In this moment, I’m thinking Pope was onto something.

We have just completed another failed Clomid/IUI cycle.

Our final cycle, actually. Our doctor thinks we’ve reached the end of the road with the Clomid.

So, while we regroup and figure out our new plan, we’ll be letting my body take a break from drugs.

Thank you to each of you for your positive thoughts and prayers.

We wouldn’t be able to get through this without you.

Can I Get Some Tylenol, Please?

clomid, infertility treatment, infertility

Phew…it’s been a long five days. Long. Super long. Excruciatingly long.

But, I finally took the last of the Clomid this morning.

Curious about how it went? 

What were the side effects?

Did I bring bodily harm to anyone?

Cry a lot?

Here’s the play by play…

Day One

7:00 am Take Clomid.

11:00 am Smile smugly, telling myself that Clomid is no match for me.

11:55 am Take two Tylenol for a sudden onset of a headache.

2:30 pm Turn into a sobbing mess at a bridal shower when talking to the mother of the groom. Convince myself that my 2-year-old son will be walking down the aisle any day now.

5:00 pm Become irrationally angry at a passing rain shower.

6:00 pm Take an Aleve to try to conquer the worsening headache that the Tylenol didn’t even touch.

6:30 pm Make note to throw out that bottle of useless Aleve.

Day Two

6:58 am Wake and wince from the relentless headache.

7:00 am Take Clomid and Tylenol.

7:01 am Complain to husband about massive headache.

7:02 am Make mental note to get revenge on husband who does not have headache.

10:00 am Notice that daughter has apparently grow three inches in the past month. Tell myself that she is no longer a baby, while sobbing and wiping my nose with my sleeve.

1:30 pm Put kids down for nap, lay perfectly still on the couch and hope that either the headache goes away or I die quickly.

2:00 pm Curse the fact that neither of the aforementioned wishes have been granted.

5:30 pm Consider actually paying my children to play the quiet game.

Day Three

7:00 am Take Clomid.

7:01 am Swear at headache that will apparently never ever go away and take two more Tylenol.

9:20 am Watch daughter’s ballet lesson through self-pitying tears that I never took ballet as a child.

11:00 am Walk through grocery store, internally fuming over the fact the person in front of me needs to hurry the #$)!_ up!!!

11:24 am Cry in the car because I am so frustrated with aforementioned slow person.

1:20 pm Take two more Tylenol and ponder the damage I’m doing to my liver.

2:04 pm Rage like a crazy person because you cannot find a pen. Anywhere!

2:05 pm Vow to bring bodily harm to whoever hid all of the pens.

4:00 pm Cry that naptime is over. Already.

Day Four

7:00 am Take Clomid.

9:59 am (Im)patiently wait outside Costco for them to open so I can buy the biggest bottle of Tylenol sold.

11:48 am Curse headache that I am certain is just snickering at me.

1:30 pm Lay on couch and repeat prayers from Day Three that I just die already.

1:45 pm Text husband to complain about headache.

1:46 pm Call husband to complain about headache.

1:47 pm Vow to restrain myself from harassing husband at work over headache.

4:42 pm Decide that it’s “close enough” to 5:00 and pour a much-needed glass of wine.

4:45 pm Open mail. Sob uncontrollably over the kind words in a card from a friend that read, “I know the Clomid is rough but hang in there. This too shall pass…”

Day Five

7:00 am Take Clomid.

7:01 am Do a 30-second happy dance that I have taken the last two pills!

7:01:30 am Curse the headache that cut my happy dance short.

7:02 am Take first two Tylenol of the day.

10:00 am Wonder why we have to listen to The Wheels on the Bus on a constant loop.

10:06 am Decide to open front door during naptime and hurl the aforementioned CD as far as humanly possible.

11:47 am Cry over the injustice of having to prepare lunch.

1:00 pm Continue with ongoing liver damage by choking down two more Tylenol.

1:29 pm Hope and pray that the Clomid works. And that the headache goes away one day in the very near future.

*This is my personal humorous account. Others who have taken Clomid have experienced no side effects at all. Lucky me.


Clomid, infertilityToday is day one of our first Clomid cycle.

It has been over five years since I’ve taken Clomid and my memories of the experience are not positive.

At all.

The memories of the sweating, bloating, crabbiness, and did I mention sweating (?) have me filled with dread.

But, if we are able to get pregnant, of course it will all be worth it.

Thank you all for sticking with me through all of this.

You are sticking with me, right? Right? ;)


A Controlling Personality, a Patient Husband, Some Infertility, and a Microscope

As soon as Craig and I were married, I scheduled an OB appointment and made an action plan for getting pregnant. I didn’t want to waste a single month and just going with the flow is SO not the way I handle things.

I bought a book called Taking Charge of Your Fertility by Toni Weschler and read it through a million times.  (I can’t recommend this book strongly enough.) I took my temperature every morning for months and charted it religiously with Fertility Friend.  I knew exactly when I ovulated.  I told myself that like anything else I had done in my life, if I wanted it badly enough, if I worked at it diligently, I could make it happen.

After all of those years of thinking that getting pregnant would be relatively simple, I was amazed at just how difficult it actually was.  Though I could work at it, the outcome was completely out of my control.

After a few months of negative pregnancy tests, I stepped it up a notch.  I put us both on a vitamin regime that had us each taking fistfuls of vitamins morning and night.

I also bought a microscope. Yep, I sure did.  I will never forget the look on Craig’s face when I told him that I would need samples. Every month, I prepared my slides and got down to business.  (You know how they say if you are camping and a bear enters your campsite, upturning everything, you should totally lay low?  I’m pretty sure that was what it looked like from Craig’s perspective.  He looked at me like he was reminding himself not to engage with the bear.)

In the process of all of this,  I completely lost my mind.

When we hadn’t gotten pregnant after six months of trying, we were referred to an infertility specialist who was kind and patient with us.  She tried not to laugh at me when I walked into that first appointment with a binder full of printouts of my months of charting.  I went into full presentation mode, pointing out where I had ovulated and when we had had sex.  When I look back on this time, I can see that I had lost touch with sanity a bit.  I was completely consumed with getting pregnant and lived life in two-week chunks—waiting to ovulate and waiting to see if we were pregnant.  In hindsight, I can also see that I wasn’t the best wife to Craig during those months.  We were newlyweds, but I couldn’t relax enough to enjoy those precious months.  I was singleminded and consumed.  He is a patient man and I will never forget the way he stood by me and helped me to hold onto what little bit of sanity I had left.

Our infertility specialist put me on Clomid and I went in once a month for a shot that would release my eggs so that Craig could go in and give them his … ummm … contribution for the IUI.  For every month that we did this, I got a cyst, which meant that we had to take the following month off so that my body could regroup.  The IUIs weren’t successful for us.  We never could figure out why, as every month I had numerous eggs and they were placing the sperm exactly where it needed to be.  In August of 2006, we got the news that I had yet another cyst, so I wouldn’t ovulate yet again.  We were advised to go home and try to relax so that the next month might be more successful.

And relax we did.  For the first time in a year, I lived each day for the beauty of that day.  We truly enjoyed just being together that month.

Then?  Yeah, you know where this is going…my period was late and we got this…

We were absolutely shocked.  I can’t tell you how many times we had been encouraged to try not to worry so much.  I had reached a point where I knew that if one more person told me to relax, there would be bloodshed.

It took us eleven months to get pregnant with Katie.  Eleven months of anxiety, tears, anger, and confusion.

But, we are a statistic.

Looking back, I realize that those months of trying made the joy of having this amazing baby girl even sweeter.

She was worth every single moment of effort and I will be ever grateful for her.  I learned so much about myself, about Craig, and about patience.

Anyone need a slightly-used microscope?

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About me

Nichole Beaudry @NicholeBeaudry Location: Northern California
Each and every day, I strive to appreciate the wonder, beauty, and whimsy in the small moments, the moments that, when strung together, form a lifetime.
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