At any rate...the general plan had been to have a scan Saturday morning, and then if everything looked good to go they would trigger me right then and there, and we'd have the IUI Sunday. I wasn't so keen on doing this with my parents in town, but at least we'd have free babysitting so we wouldn't have to be the bad patients dragging a kid to the fertility clinic.
So Saturday I left the house at the crack of down, carrying my Ovidrel shot in a little cooler. (Side note: Because I'm sort of repeating a grade here, going back to Clomid after already doing injectables, I find it mildly entertaining that they'll do the trigger shot for you in a Clomid cycle, considering that it's a sub-q shot, which I've already given myself plenty of.)
And...nothing doing. I have plenty of little follicles on both ovaries, but nothing that looks like it's ready to break away from the pack. The doc who did my scan (not my doc, but one of my favorite REs at this clinic) said to come back Wednesday for another u/s, and if nothing has developed by then, it looks like this cycle is a bust.
It's remarkable how different it feels to go through treatment this time around. I'm so much less emotionally invested in the outcome of this cycle. I was mildly disappointed, of course, but not devastated or self-blaming the way I would have been (and was) if a cycle didn't work out four years ago. The very fact that I didn't remember to blog about it until now--back then, I would have rushed to the computer immediately.
I wish I could have had this kind of equilibrium back then, but of course the only reason I'm able to feel this way is because I know that I could walk away at any point and still be happy.