History, Herstory

So, given my previous post, you may have realized that the title of this blog is actually incorrect. My eggs are probably not rotten--they may be perfectly healthy. None of them have every actually come out to say hi, though, so I don't know. The title of the blog should really be, "Amenorrhea, Friend or Foe?" but "amenorrhea" is really hard to spell, and people would find it hard to Google me.

The King has his own issue--that is, poor morphology. However, he's got tons of the little guys swimming around, and apparently they're pretty speedy, so I'm hoping that can make up for the bunch that are freaks. I imagine them as sort of the Greek mythology of sperm: there's the Cerberus sperm, the ones with three heads; and the Arguses, who have a hundred eyes apiece; and the scary, scary Hydras, who have a hundred heads each. Hopefully they aren't killing off the nice, speedy, one-headed, happy sperm, because it looks like after a very long year of waiting, we may actually get to try the Clomid next month. Granted, we'll be sleeping in my mother-in-law's squeaky guest bed during the ovulation period, but why should that stop us? I'll have to think of some explanation for why I'm drinking gallons of green tea--explaining cervical mucus is definitely not someplace I want to go.