K. and I met with our fertility specialist today. I was completely amped up – I arrived a half hour early with all my forms complete, my google health profile ready and (and!) a print out of my basal body temperatures* for the last thirty days.
K. arrived five minutes late.
To say that we were both nervous is a major understatement. And we shouldn’t have been. We met with the head of the Florida Institute for Reproductive Medicine (or, as it’s commonly referred to, the FIRM). Strangely, he sort of reminded me of my dad – a Germanic, metro sort of guy. K. saw the same resemblance. Even weirder, it’s sort of comfortable.
K. held back the giggles when talking about sperm counts, and surprisingly didn’t groan when he heard he’s facing five months of condom usage. We’ll head to Jacksonville in May to have some tests. When the test results aren’t abnormal (see what I did there?), I’ll remove my IUD in July. And, starting in September I’ll start with some ovulation-inducing drugs. By October, we’ll be in the baby making business.
After asking him lots of questions about bipolar patients, he suggested Letrozole (Femara) instead of Clomid. With less emotional side effects, it has its advantages. He didn’t seem particularly alarmed with the whole process — and I’m sure it was a bit routine for him. For me, however, I was overwhelmed, anxious, relieved, and pretty much every other emotion under the sun.
We left his office and hugged in the parking lot at the top of the TMH garage. There was relief written all over my husband’s face, which was a nice change from the somewhat panic-stricken look he’s been wearing for a week or two. I think he’s excited now too – and it’s all that much more real.
After meeting the Melvin-Doppelganger, I headed to my psychiatrist. Dr. S is one of the best doctors I’ve ever worked with. It was sort of a relief on several levels to talk to her after the fertility visit.
I’m not going crazy because of the lamictal — well, I am, sort of. Lamictal messes with the hormone in birth control pills – progesterone. My IUD has just enough progesterone to give the keys to my closet of crazy to the Lamictal pledges. And, voila! There’s crazy PMS and anger and crying all up in here. Dilemma solved!
In two weeks – two weeks from today – I move from 900 mg of lithium to 750 mg of lithium. Each month we’ll drop 150 mg until my body is completely free of the stuff. And then, we’ll have a baby.
Or something like that.
I’m excited. I’m thrilled. I’m scared like you wouldn’t believe. October will be here before we know it.
*So here I am, thinking I’ve ovulated and all my basal body temperature taking at 5:45 AM has been righteous. Not so, my friends. The good man told me I didn’t need to do it anymore – not even when the IUD comes out. “It doesn’t really work.” Well, shit on a biscuit, how do you like that?