Funny old world.
You wait two years for something, anything, to happen and when it does it all comes thick and fast. (I'm mature, so I refuse to add "like me" to that last sentence.)
Tonight ET popped her second 100mg dose of Clomid.
The second of five days of the drug that will get those ovaries of hers working like a popcorn maker. Before we know it the five day course will be up, and we'll be back at the hospital for the ultrasound, finding out when we'll have the trigger shot, and of course the insemination.
The insemination, bloody hell.
It's head spinning to be moving so fast now after so long of being stuck in the mud.
We went with a suggestion from Jane G that she should take the drug at night, in an attempt to make any immediate side effects less noticeable. To me at least, as I'd be sound asleep.
There was a bizarrely scary moment after she took it on Saturday night. She proceeded to apply her make-up for no reason, which gave me the distinct feeling she was intending to decapitate me and face the police and media with her best face on. Thankfully that never came to pass and we both made it through the night with all the appropriate appendages firmly intact.
I may just put a new lock on the garden shed door, just in case.
So, here we are, two fifths through the drug stage of the cycle, and so far so good. I have found it often happens that I say something here and then it comes back to bite me on the arse though, so is there anything we should expect?
Is there any side effect we don't know about? Will she start conversing in tongues or chewing the sofa-arms? Will she end up crying at the weather forecast or will I come home to find her with the postman in a headlock?
Anything that stops me from being woken at 4am with a t-shirt stuffed into my mouth as she stands over me with a nine iron, is greatly appreciated.