The cycle is under way. I'm only taking 25mg of Clomid, so I was expecting my side effects to be even easier than last time (and they weren't bad then.) They still aren't terrible, but I feel like a walking sauna. I guess it's a good sign that it's working, but not only am I having hot flashes, but I just generally feel hotter. I've been obsessively checking the thermostat, convinced it's been bumped upward somehow (despite being both eye level and digital), but no. That's just estrogen.
I have been playing chase-the-bureaucrat-by-phone game with the insurance company. Infertility coverage is mandated in the state of Illinois, and I confirmed all coverage at the beginning of the year, but when the pharmacy ran my trigger shot through, it came back denied. Of course, pharmacy benefits tells me to call the regular insurance who (after I trotted out my Angry Trish voice) tells me I need to call a specialty pharmacy who tells me to have the office call, and then they are told to fill out special paperwork which will then be sent to yet another pharmacy who will then (Hopefully!) fill the prescription. The good news is that supposedly if all of this happens correctly, it will actually be covered at 100%, which means I even get to save my expected co-pay. Thank goodness I don't need the shot until next week and have some time to play phone games.
Emotionally I've been okay. Well, okay, as long as you don't count that my temper is definitely short, which I'm blaming on Clomid both directly (hormonal rage) and indirectly (being hot all the time has lead to poor sleep.) It's helpful that work has been pretty crazy. It seems counter-intuitive, but the stress of work has actually helped because it gives me something to focus my hormonal rage on and keeps me distracted enough that I can't google preeclampsia recurrence rates repeatedly all day long.
I wanted to lose 20 pounds before we started cycling again. I've lost 25, and on a good week, closer to 30. (We did some traveling last weekend, which meant eating a lot of crap food, so it's closer to 25 again.) I'm still fat, but it's something. It's more than Dr. Bitchy asked for, and hopefully it can make a difference. It's the only risk factor I have any control over at all, so I'm doing what I can.
We appreciate any and all prayers for a nice, boring, regular-length pregnancy. And if you could pass me a cool rag, that would help, too.
P.S. Don't forget to donate to Team Remarkable Robbie. Our fundraising is off to a slow start and every dollar counts.