Our Anniversary

No, not our wedding anniversary. Our we-should-have-a-three-month-old-by-now anniversary. Our 80%-of-couples-will-have-conceived-by-now-but-not-us anniversary. That's right, today is the one-year anniversary of when I tossed out my birth control pills. We're officially infertile as of today, any doctor would agree. It's so fucking depressing.

We have male factor--the King's morphology is crappy--plus unexplained female factor. Or rather, we know anovulation and amenorrhea are my problem, but have no idea why. All the tests say I'm perfectly normal, which I don't understand. How can I be normal if I don't cycle?

I'm pretty pissed off this morning. It's been a long week, the King and I have been getting on each other's nerves a bit, and now this one-year thing. It's reminded me how much it annoys me the way doctors treat amenorrhea. Or rather, don't treat it. If I had stopped having periods and gone to the doctor for treatment, but was not trying to conceive, she would have done not a damn thing about it. From what I can tell, if you aren't severely under- or overweight, there is absolutely no research to explain not having regular periods, and no one seems to have any interest in doing any. Doctor Stupid-Bitch probably would have said, "You're not having periods? Aren't you happy about that?" To which I would have said, "FUCK NO! THERE IS SOMETHING WRONG WITH ME! I want to find out what it is and fix it!"

But we don't know what it is, and may never know. In the meantime, I'm hoping that maybe my body will want to take advantage of some sort of symbolic new start with this new year and the Provera (which I've still got two days of to go) will bring on a period today, so we can go forward with the Clomid. This waiting is killing me.