Hmmm...how's July for you?

Yeah, July. It would appear that that's when our next chance to get pregnant will arrive.

Another bumpy day on our 'scenic route' to becoming parents. Sigh...are you getting bored of reading all this sad news, my dour reports of our journey? Believe me, I'm getting pretty darned fed up with having to write them all, I'll tell you what. But alas, here we are again.

To make a very long story short (yes, it is possible for me to do just that), I went in for a day three ultrasound and blood work today. Didn't have to do this last time, but whatever - I'm not the expert here. Yet. I'm sure it's just a matter of time...

Anydoodle, they decided I needed to come in and do this today and they'd give me the prescription for my increased dosage of clomid at the same time. Fine.

Hubs and I get up stupid early this morning, trudge through the traffic, he drops me off, and up I go for the morning poke I've missed so much in the past two plus weeks.

And that's when the bottom falls out. Again.

Apparently I have a cyst on my right ovary. That in itself is not a big deal - cysts come and go and are most often absorbed or flushed out by the body, so it's nothing to really be concerned about.

Unless you're trying to get pregnant, that is. You know, like us.

So, they tell me they're going to look at my blood work and if the cyst is producing hormones (huh?) they won't give me the clomid because it won't work. If that's the case, we'll have to cancel the cycle and wait for next time.

And wouldn't you know that would be exactly what's happening. The damned little bugger is producing too much estrogen, so I'm out. Again. Before we even got started. Again.

WTF? Just as I was starting to feel a bit more hopeful and generally positive about our little situation, something else comes along and smacks us upside the face.

So now, because the little beastie is generating estrogen, the clomid won't work. 'Cause the greedie thing would suck up all the good stuff and the rest of my wee follicles, just waiting for their taste, would get none. So nothing would happen. Hence why we're cancelling this entire cycle.

And now we wait. Again. I'm supposed to call them back in 4 weeks if I haven't had a period of my own. Which I won't, 'cause my body doesn't do that all by itself. So I'll go back in in four weeks and if things look okay, they'll give me more happy drugs to bring a cycle on - again - which will, as we now know all too well, take about two more weeks. Then we'll go back again on day three, this time hoping no more cysties are hanging out and cramping my style, and if the bastard is gone, we'll try the clomid.

And if IT works, we'll try, finally, our first IUI two weeks or so later.

Let's do the math, shall we? Four weeks before we go back, two weeks to start the next cycle, and two more weeks after that to head towards ovulation. 4+2+2 = 8. Eight weeks - or the beginning of July.

Which is why Hubs and I have spent the vast majority of our time at home this evening weighing the pros and cons of going south for a week to an all inclusive. Leaving next weekend. 'Cause I gotta tell ya - this diva's surely in need not only of a distraction, but of some time away from drugs and temping and charting and babies. Everywhere.

We'll see how the picture looks in the morning, but a week on the beach in Mexico sounds like just what the doctor ordered. And while my prescription for clomid rests futilely in my sassy white Jeanne Lottie messenger bag, this Mexico 'scrip is something I'd like to see filled much sooner rather than later. Fewer negative side effects.

And that's your daily dash. How's your diva doin'?