You’d think there’d be nothing like a miscarriage to strip me of every last vestige of humor – an event so deeply traumatizing that there’d be nothing to do but mouth cry. But instead, I practically live blogged that shit. Every tormenting up and down of my record-breaking 72-hour pregnancy was sent out into the ether, hyperlinks and strikethroughs aplenty. I couldn’t help myself; basically hyperventilating at the keyboard in eagerly
blogger anticipation. And by all appearances, wink wink, I’ve emerged relatively unscathed (justbarely).
But now, all of a sudden, weeks after the harrowing turn of events that left me rather, ahem,
un-pregnant, I’m feeling stale and
Third Clomid cycle in – and almost at the one year mark of trying – and this infertility business has become something of a humdrum existence. Truth is, I’m in a bit of an infertility groove – an almost (but not quite) comforting rhythm in the midst of this unpredictable madness that obscures the need for any modicum of thinking. It goes like this (sing along with me now!): birth control, bleed, Clomid, wanding/blood letting/sporadic fainting, Ovidrel, sex, sex, sex, wait, wait, wait,
early miscarriage, rinse and
repeat. It’s sort of soothing, almost ethereal – you know, like sniffing
glue listening to a
So, having just gulped down the last two chalky tablets of Mother's-little-(fertility)-helper, I don’t feel much of anything. You know, except of course a burning desire to have a stranger insert a (sort of flexible but very cold) wand inside me at 7 am on a Saturday. Thankfully, I have less than 24 hours to wait for that...
Ed. Note: the lovely lady at Lamenting the Lentil has said some crazy-nice things about Fallopian Groove – and I’m not even paying her. But she’s got a pretty great little blog going on herself – check her out: Lamenting the Lentil.
 Too much?
 Or dare I say, fallopiangroove? (Forgive me – it was so easy.)
 For those of you who are really paying attention, you may be counting on your fingers with a furrowed brow. Yes, today is only day 8 of my cycle and tomorrow is day 9. Apparently after being unable to ovulate on my own for so long, my body just can’t ovulate fast enough – I’m an early ovulator (that’s a thing, right?), often around day 10. But on this cycle’s day 10 I will be at a lovely wedding in New York, unable to oblige the wanding gods. So, premature wanding though this may be – and more likely, first of several wandings over the next several days – I am very ready to get moving.