Clomid Diary: Day 7

***I feel like I should preface this, and all future posts with a warning. It might get gross/TMI-ish (TMI, too much information. I used to say “don’t go there” but that’s lame. Oh, I love Michael Scott…) Since baby-making is a messy process involving bodies and fluids and sex, faint-hearted readers may want to steer clear.  I can’t say that I’ll try to keep things clean and dry, but I will try to try…

You know what’s super awesome about Clomid? How it takes away the one physical manifestation of ovulation (our dear friend “EggWhite Cervical Mucus, or for those in the know EWCM) so you don’t know when you should REALLY be doing it?  Or maybe it’s the part where it makes you feel crazy and fat and ugly and sad, so you don’t really want to wonkytonky* anyway. When they prescribe Clomid, I think they should also prescribe Xanax. And lots of booze. Wine, preferably. Women should be given something that will trigger a psychological shift that  encourages some desire for the sexytime. Because, while dudes seem to be ready and willing whenever they are called upon (for the most part, I know there are off-times and such),  the one major turn-off? A wife that doesn’t want to do it.  I can see how this would stress people out. A vicious cycle of non-babymaking:  1) Take pills that make wifey-poo hate everyone and everything, including herself. 2) Doctor tells you “Have sex every day for ten days, starting on day ten, have it more than once a day if you’d like” (that’s what happens when you see a MAN doctor. Bros before Hos, I guess). 3) Try to follow doctor’s orders while coping with the fact that Little Miss Crankypants ain’t too fun to be around. 4) Rinse 5) Repeat.

Seriously though, I am not so great at chores. And my (one-time only because my real doctor was sick) doctor made sex seem like a chore.  So, I’m resisting.  It’s not that we’re not going to do it, but rather we’re going to try and keep it in the “fun” mindframe. Maybe we’ll drive out to the other side of Utah Lake and do it in the back of the car (this was a real-life suggestion to us from some Old Lady who works at a bank in Springville) or maybe I’ll try reverse-psychologizing God, since prayers and pleas aren’t seeming to work (lousy omniscience, foiling my plans…). Whatever I’m doing, I can guarantee you that I won’t be letting some stupid pill make me resent the WT*.

*Wonky Tonky (wahn-kee tahn-kee) is a term we came up with early in our marriage during a particularly racially insensitive conversation wherein we decided that Wonky Tonky was a great term for the sex had in wigwams, or teepees or hogans or any other fun-to-say term for shelter used by Native Americans.  I will probably use Wonky Tonky to refer to sex more than any other term. Fair warning.



Filed under clomid diary

4 responses to “Clomid Diary: Day 7

  1. Mindy

    Thanks for sharing this “journey” with us. I really do feel for you. We were always told, “just enjoy your time without kids, because once you have them free time is over.” While that is true the hurt and pain and emotional BS of not having kids is so much harder than the frustrations of parenting! I know the Lord has a plan for all of us, but waiting to find it out is the hardest part! Hang in there. My sister just gave up on all the meds too and is onto adoption, which honestly is just another exciting and painful rollercoaster. I will be following from a distance with an aching heart.

    Yours faithfully and salutations,


  2. Whosgotmyarm


    Even though I feel I have no experiences that can remotely relate to your situation and can’t swap clomid stories, I am hanging on every word and visit your site at least twice daily. I’m really hoping and wishing that this turns to a pregnancy blog as soon as possible. I wish there was more one could to do as a friend. Yet, all I have to offer is a reserved a spot on my shoulder for your tears if you ever need it. Also, I am totally game if you need anyone to participate in series of experimental fertility rituals/seances. Let me know. Much love.

  3. rob

    prefaces of TMI are for the weak. besides, your picture up top probably accomplishes that.

    the bank teller in springville gave you wonkistic location advice? THATs weird.

    anyway, best of luck

  4. Amos

    Hey sister,
    I just wanted to let you know that I am reading… and that you are on my mind a lot lately. You are one of the strongest people I know and I am sorry all this baby making business has got you down. Love you

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