Donation Commotion.

I hereby give warning that the following diatribe may offend anyone who has used any form of donations with which to create their families. Hey, my blog, my shit, right?

So we come to that time in every old, infertile slapper's life, when the only possible way of creating a family is through some sort of donation. You know, some weird sci-fi type shit that isn't really sci-fi anymore, thanks to modern technology. But in my head, it's still playing God n shit, mkay? And this comes from someone who has no concept of a personal god, in any way, shape or form.

I try, I try, I try really hard to come to grips with the fact that having a child, any child at all, is meant to be preferable to having none. But I struggle. I play the guilt angle, you know, why should my husband miss out on the joy of breeding because of my infertility, but at the end of the day, no dice. I still can't get my head around gestating some other woman's child with my husband. I guess my maternal instinct just ain't that strong.

But does it make me less brave? Less courageous? Less worthy of admiration? Because I'm happy to give up without grabbing the gold ring of success, the trophy of motherhood and family? Sometimes it feels this way.

Confusion reigns as sadness rains.

Clomid, Shlomid....

Okay.....sooooooo...................I can now say with all good sense and authority that I have experienced the miracle drug of Clomid. Funnily enough, this has come after about a zillion IVF cycles. I do work backwards, y'all.

Clomid is a demon drug. The first month I used it will go down in history as the Hunter Valley Wedding Shemozzle of 2009. In which, on my first ever cycle of clomid , I had a hugely embarrassing meltdown of epic proportions at a wedding in NSW, at which every single guest was either preggers, or had a large suite of bebe, with which to taunt moi, el infertilito.

Apart from the minor behavioural disorders, my months on Clomid have been relatively benign. This will be month no. 3 and month no. last. I said I'd do 3 Clomid cycles, and this is it, baby. I've done an early HPT, so know it didn't succeed. I do know that Clomid made me ovulate. In fact, these 3 months are the only times my test lines have been stronger than the control lines. Clearly, I have not been ovulating regularly in the past.

I am still completely, fucking unexplained.