The list

Theoretically, I have a phone appointment tomorrow with the doc. I say theoretically because I'm not sure it will actually take place. Maybe she'll call today. Maybe not til Thursday. Gah.

We will be getting the results from J's latest semen analysis. Fingers crossing that the numbers are way improved since last time. WAY improved.

We're thinking seriously about an IUI this month, especially if the numbers are low. But even if they're OK, I may want to give the IUI a good shot on the Clomid.

We'll discuss what's "next". I really want off the Clomid, but I've not yet voiced that to the doc. Either way, she's doubtful we'll continue it much longer anyhow. So we'll see what she's got up her sleeve.

I'm also going to ask about one specific side effect of Clomid. Depression. I did some reading about it, and apparently it only shows up in less than 1% of those taking it, but if you've been diagnosed with depression before, the likelihood that you'll be in that <1%>

Maybe a reduced dosage of the Clomid will keep me ovulating but cut down on the myriad side effects.

In any case, that's the list. Spermies, turkey basters, new meds, down with Clomid. Check.

Annunciation

I've been mulling over the Annunciation for several days now, and something said in the sermon yesterday really struck me. Father Michael was talking about a friend of his who is a Baptist pastor and lives down the street from the monastery. Pastor Baptist at one point was touring the monastery's chapel and stopped to ponder the Cross. He leaned back and pronounced, in a sort of wonder, "Jesus died on the cross for my sins!" And Father Michael said, "Well. Yes." (As Orthodox are wont to do. The "yes, but" is pretty popular amongst the bearded monastic types.) "But. That's sort of limited, isn't it? You mean to boil down all the works of the Almighty through all time and space to three hours on a hill outside of Jerusalem?" Some part of me recoils a bit even as I type that. It's easy to hear what Father said and think it seems sacreligous. But he's not minimizing the crucifixion. Consider what he said further. "All mothers know the story doesn't start at the climax. For us, on March 25, we remember that what God has done did not start on Good Friday, or Palm Sunday, or the 40 days in the wilderness, or even Christmas. God's work began the moment he wove himself into flesh in the womb of a girl who said, 'May it be as You have said.'" For this reason we honor her, and for this reason, we honor Him.

I think that's why it seems so fitting that the Annunciation should fall within Lent. Lest we forget one focal point in our concentration on another, we remember the Incarnation in the midst of the trial, and we remember that He came in flesh not just to destroy death, but to redeem flesh.

As an aspiring mother (haha), this really resonates with me. My motherhood, in a sense, started long ago, when the desire for a child was first born in me. The Fatherhood of the Almighty began before the beginning, before the Son became our Savior, and before the Father became a woman's Son. It began with his love for us, before we were born, before we were knit, before he breathed into dust and made us live.

Evlogimeni I Vasilia tou Patros ke tou Iou ke tou Agiou Pnevmatos, nin ke ai ke is tous eonas ton eonon.

Silent treatment.

Clomid is not my friend, and we're not speaking to each other right now. Call it a bit of a falling-out, a disappointment. No promises were made, so I can't start crying "betrayed!" but believe you me, I'm tempted. Enter this blog's title: silent treatment. I'm still swallowing the nasty little pills, but I do it with a sneer.

The snarky tart has not only not gotten me pregnant, she's turned me into a raving headcase. Literally. I think I've raved aloud (alone) in my car more times in the last week than in the last 4 months put together. PLUS the everything-blurry-or-covered-in-squiggly-glowing-worms thing. PLUS a 7-hour long hot flash where I was sweating and hot even when I was freezing. PLUS utter. complete. insomnia. I'm talking 2 hours of sleep last night, bookended and punctuated by mostly inexplicable crying fits. Nice.

Needless to say, I think Clomid and I have gone as far as we can go and I'm searching for a new suitor. Yes, we'll finish off this round, but then I think I'm done. I'm interested to hear what the docs have up their sleeve next.

This is one of those times when stepping off the train is as exciting as stepping onto it was. A little sad, but at least it can pull away without me this time. Clomid, you're riding the roller coaster alone from now on.

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In other news, today is the Synaxis in honor of the Archangel Gabriel. No, I don't know what a Synaxis is. But the two prayers for today are lovely:

Apolytikion in the Fourth Tone
O Commanders of the Heavenly Host, we the unworthy beseech you, that through your entreaties you will fortify us, guarding us in the shelter of the wings of your ethereal glory, even as we fervently bow before you crying: "Deliver us from all danger, as Commanders of the Powers on high! "

Kontakion in the Fourth Tone
Supreme Commander of God and minister of the Divine glory, guide of men and leader of the bodiless hosts: Ask for what is to our profit and for great mercy, since thou art Supreme Commander of the bodiless hosts.

Lent

O Lord and Master of my life! Take from me the spirit of sloth, faint-heartedness, lust of power, and idle talk. But give rather the spirit of chastity, humility, patience, and love to Thy servant. Yea, O Lord and King! Grant me to see my own errors and not to judge my brother; For Thou art blessed unto ages of ages. Amen

There's a great article on this, the Lenten Prayers of St Ephrem the Syrian, here. Interesting bit on prostrations, which I've never done, at the end.

Today, incidentally, is also the celebration of the Annunciation of the Theotokos (translation: announcement of the pregnancy of Mary). We remember today Gabriel's announcement to the girl Mary that she was going to become pregnant and bear a son, lack of husband notwithstanding. The Apolytikion of today says, "Today marks the crowning of our salvation and the revelation of the mystery before all ages. For the Son of God becomes the son of the Virgin, and Gabriel proclaims the grace. Wherefore, we also cry out with him, 'Hail, O full of grace, the Lord is with you.'"

I find it interesting that the announcement of Christ's birth is made smack in the middle of Lent. I haven't quite digested it yet, but something about it seems quite... right... somehow.

I run

Completely in love with this song right now, and completely in love with the adorable man I'm married to. We made a Thai/curry sort of dish for dinner last night, and I proceeded to bawl and blubber my way through it (aided by the 1/2 bottle of wine I drank prior to the meal). And he was sweet enough to say, and I believe him, that I didn't ruin our Monday date night with my floods of tears. It started with me asking if I'm always distraught when my period starts, and he said yes. And I said, "Well then why does it seem so much worse this time?" And the deluge started. I've been walking around with a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes for the better part of a week, and I've felt too foolish to tell him. I don't understand the depth of this ache. It seems like petulance over timing. But then he said, "But is it really the timing you're upset about? If somebody told you that you would get pregnant in 6 months, would you be upset?" No, I wouldn't. So it's not really the timing. It's the growing, nagging fear that presents itself like grief. And then he said, "Would anyone think you strange if you weren't permitted to eat and you started to get a little upset about it? This is a biological drive, and is, by definition, a-rational, but its arationality doesn't make it less real."

And I told him how I'm feeling just swallowed by this. And beat up. And tired. And sick to fucking death of it.

And how so many well-meaning people keep telling me to wait on God's timing, or for it to happen God's way, and how that doesn't mean anything at all to me. It's not that I don't care about God's "way" or "timing", but that the words hold no meaning. This is biology, and there's no reasoning, bargaining, bartering or bribing. Sure, He could step in and perform a miracle. He made us out of dust and spit, He certainly could make another one of us out of an egg and sperm. And He does every day. But I have a hard time believing that every birth and every death are parts of a carefully articulated plan. I think He's pretty much already let us know what He wants and what His plan is, and it's fairly simple. Trying to push the right God-button to get what you want seems to me to be a pretty bald-faced manipulation of the Almighty. He knows who I am and He knows what I want and all good things are being worked out through grace and in time.

And yes, there is mercy everywhere.

This might be my last cycle on the Clomid. And J is going in Wednesday for another test. And we might do an IUI this month. And I don't know what's next, but the feeling of being robbed of something is returning.

Please be gentle with me. I'll be better tomorrow.

OK now

I've made it through CD1. Yay hooray. At least that first moment of "no no no no no no no" has passed, as has the crying-the-whole-way-to-church (alone in the car, thank goodness) moment. So we can move on. It's funny, though, how the whole world seems a little muffled. That'll pass soon enough too.

I didn't really expect to be pregnant this time, and I wouldn't have been surprised had the cycle ended several days ago. It was really just the delay that messed my head around. But what are you going to do, really? Nothing. It comes down to that, really, in the end. Or right now, at least. "The end" may be a bit too dramatic, eh? :)

I'd planned all kinds of things I wanted to write tonight, and most of them not even on the whole nonexistant baby topic. There are a few new songs out on the radio that I really like. And I had a bit of an epiphany in the car this afternoon. And I'm really appreciating a particular friend at work. And I'm totally adoring my husband.

But I'm really tired. So goodnight.

The end

CD35 has dawned CD1.

I would have been OK if this happened 3 days ago.