My Difficult Clomid Journey: Why I’m Still Grateful for the Experience

There was a time in my life when I probably thought fertility drugs like Menopur and Ovidrel were just some incredibly unfortunate celebrity names. That was before pelvic ultrasounds, estradiol, and tacrolimus became part of my daily coffee break conversation. It was in a simpler, deeply naive time of my existence, when Follistim and Gonal-F were surely the last characters to   be killed off on Game of Thrones.

Sure, I’ll learn all about Menopur and company soon, but at this early stage of my infertility journey, it was all about Clomid. For those new to the infertility drug scene, you could call it a gateway drug or a precursor to the other infertility drugs mentioned above.

Or you can talk about it the way Will Kiltz, communications manager at the law firm CNY Fertility, puts it. “Clomid can be considered a first-line treatment and is often used as the first fertility drug given to a person,” says Kiltz. When first used, it’s usually taken and combined with [regular] intercourse. If that doesn’t result in pregnancy, Clomid is usually combined with intrauterine insemination (IUI).

 

Why I Needed Clomid

Clomid is commonly used to boost fertility for a few specific reasons. The first is to put a little extra pressure on the ovaries to stimulate the growth of more eggs. “It’s also used to induce ovulation in women who don’t release an egg predictably and reliably each month, or who don’t ovulate at all,” says Kiltz.

That was me being unpredictable. In December 2016, the stress of infertility took its toll on me emotionally and disrupted my menstrual cycle. One month it would start early, the next month it would start late. I just couldn’t keep it in line, which was one of the reasons I had trouble keeping it together.

After three months of hope and three months of failure with IUI, I was no closer to becoming a mother than when I started. In fact, I felt like I wasn’t even close to the starting line. I was just driving aimlessly through the parking lot, looking for any spot I could find.

To say I was devastated is like throwing my emotions around in a collared shirt. I hadn’t ironed, sewn, or buttoned anything. I was torn to pieces.

My pre-pregnancy blood work was fine, my personal amazing physical exams cleared me, but my baby wasn’t there yet.

I was lost in my search for answers. I was afraid to continue my infertility treatment, but I was also afraid to stop. Financially, there was also a deep pain and emptiness in my bank account. Every consultation, every ovulation kit, every sperm vial and shipping, every insemination, all of it was not covered by insurance and all of the costs were covered from the rapidly dwindling savings I had accumulated for treatment.

 

Coping with Clomid Side Effects

After my third painful IUI failure, my fertility specialist called me for another $200 consultation. He advised us to be more aggressive and suggested we try Clomid.

Clomid slightly increases the chance of multiples. That’s the side effect I’ve heard about – multiple, beautiful, adorable babies and beautiful lullabies. But that wasn’t the only side effect. There were others.

Some of the most common symptoms or adverse side effects seen in some, but not all, people using Clomid include: mood swings, hot flashes or hot flushes, abdominal/pelvic fullness or discomfort, ovarian cyst formation, nausea or stomach upset, breast tenderness, headache, vision problems, lymph node disorders, mucous membrane disorders, and hair growth. Kilts

It’s important to note that many of the side effects associated with Clomid are mirror images of symptoms associated with pregnancy, which can make navigating this process even more frustrating when you’re an expectant parent.

So, as I said, my doctor may have mentioned other potential side effects of taking Clomid, but we had reached a point in my journey where the motto was, “Two kids, better than none.”

And with a scribble on a prescription pad and $23 to the local pharmacy, I ordered five Clomid pills and waited for my period to start.

On day five of my cycle, I started taking the medication. In the days that followed, I had a transvaginal ultrasound (yes, during my period), took more Clomid, and had more transvaginal ultrasounds. It was a process. We were looking for signs of follicle development and possibly mature eggs. We were looking for our window to inseminate.

When conception day came, I was excited, confident, and ready. This was supposed to work. It was an invasive fertility drug, dammit. This wraps it up. This makes me a mother.

I felt mood swings right up until the day of the pregnancy test. I had heartburn and indigestion. My breasts became tender. I never had pain during my period! I never had nausea with my period! Only once did I have a stomach ache after a very spicy dinner (and it was totally worth it). This had to be done!

A few days later, when I peed for a pregnancy test, it wasn’t like that anymore. The test was negative. All my symptoms, all my signs, all my “should have” moments were simply side effects of Clomid. As an added bonus, I developed an ovarian cyst that I had to sit out for a month before trying again.

 

Fertility and my emotional journey

For two years, I was emotionally and mentally gassed every day by Clomid and the other fertility drugs that followed. These drugs, with their side effects of just faking pregnancy, made me believe something about myself and doubt something about myself at the same time. At a time when I needed to believe only one thing, I couldn’t trust my feelings or my body.

During this period, nothing in my life was stable, safe, or reliable, even though I felt pregnant.

I will continue the Clomid route in varying doses for two more cycles before moving on to injectables with my fertilizations. They didn’t get it either.

For me, for whatever reason, fertilization never happens. The first two rounds of in vitro fertilization (IVF) don’t happen either. But the third round of IVF went ahead and went well.

My son Wyatt was born in April 2019.

Looking back now, my son wasn’t my Clomid baby or my Follistim baby or my high-dose baby. He was the same baby who went through a lot of trial and error, went back to the drawing board, and tried again. He was the baby who came because I tried, and tried, and tried some more.

I hated Clomid, but I love that hating Clomid made me hate another drug, which led me to my next method, which fortunately led me to my Wyatt.

Infertility pills are very hard to swallow, but for me it was 100% worth it. Even Clomid.

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