“You Shouldn’t Say That Name.”


The Gallows ain’t got nothin on Clomid, let me tell ya! If you want to see an emotional unstable, potentially dangerous, bitter filled person, come see a women on her third round of fertility drugs. If that doesn’t scare the hell out of you, I’m not sure what will.

I’ll officially be on day 3 this evening & it’s already feeling like it should be day 5 (the LAST day of this satanic medication!!!). My day yesterday was as followed:

Scrolling through Facebook an article of an injured dog catches my eye (I love me some animals!) so I, very mistakingly, click on it. What I thought would be an update on the successful recovery of the pup deemed Caitlyn (#CallMeCaitlyn), turned into a similar additional horror story (that didn’t have a happy ending yet..at least as far as I read before the next two sentences went down). Someone had duct taped the dog’s mouth & feet together. The man who found said dog said it had urinated on itself it was so afraid of people as they approached to help.

What does crazy Clomid lady do?

Start crying. in my photographer’s studio who was snapping pictures of my gorgeous nephew. Thankfully, she was busied with trying to make him look happy & my sister was busied with watching the photoshoot.

I went to the bathroom to cry over a Facebook article…which led to crying about other things. Like every damned reason I am sad about life as of late. Specifically, mostly about the devastating world that is infertility.

I’ve already written about how I am tired….I am frustrated….& I am bitter. And I hate that. I am not that type of person.

I cried over Caitlyn the dog….then I quickly started crying about our two failed IUIs…the stress of the upcoming one as it hurt like a mother fucker & aggravated my PTSD last time….the fact that my teenage sister has a baby when I can’t…..& all the other people who can get pregnant so easily.

Today, I’m planted on my couch utterly exhausted. Tired in a way I knew only once before these meds, when I had mono. My energy has been sucked from my body & is in some far off space I can barely see.

In truth, I prefer being tired over the emotional public roller coaster….that I know is bound to happen again as soon as I leave the house. Alas, I have already paid the deposit on my tattoo appointment this evening so we’ll see what happens.

Until then……

How I feel on Clomid….

How I feel on Clomid….


4 thoughts on ““You Shouldn’t Say That Name.”

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