How I got from TTC to DE: The Clomid Experiment

October 16, 2009

It’s my very first IUI. The clinic, which is in a hospital, is like a food stamp line in the former USSR. The ultrasound room is in the centre of the floorplan and other offices surround it, and surrounding that on the perimeter is a waiting area and the blood lab. We IUI or IVF women line up to get our gowns, to wait for a change room where there are no lockers or security, waddle through the waiting area in front of hoardes of patients that don’t have anything to do with fertility, and wait in the hallway for one of two seats where our blood is taken. Then we walk back and wait in another part of the hallway, in full view of patients not in those pathetic hospital gowns, for our turn with the wand. I feel like one of those people on a long term care ward, walking around with her gown open at the back, except of course mine isn’t. But other patients still give us querying looks because they’re not in gowns.

Finally I’m in the ultrasound room. But I don’t even get to see the doctor. A nurse and a fellow do everything. Like he knows what he’s doing. He’s a newbie! I’m sent out to change and someone will call me in the afternoon after all the charts have been reviewed with the actual doctor. I am immediately sceptical of this process and it turns out that I have reason to be.

My dose of Clomid is the same as everyone else’s and apparently I’m a super-responder. So my ovaries are blown out and they fiddle and fiddle with my cycle until it’s time for my ovaries to pop. I line up again for the actual insemination, which is done by the nurse and the fellow and it isn’t too bad at all. But I’ve had every possible side-effect. Migraines, dizziness (I was really worried about driving), loss of appetite and more. I’ll skip ahead here and tell you what you must already know: it didn’t work. And the following month, I got cysts from the Clomid, which is a typical side effect but they don’t warn you about it.

What really gets my goat, is that they don’t warn you about anything. Drugs are prescribed and it’s assumed you’ll just take them without question. No one sat me down and explained side effects and no one talked about the possible link to ovarian cancer. And this is an elective process, one for which we pay dearly. I don’t want one of those dear things to be my health.

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