Since we left our herione, her certainty that she had ovulated in time to attempt pregnancy before the medical interventions began has crumbled. She has had four temperatures on or slightly below her coverline. 97.6, 97.6, 97.5, 97.5 after a spike of 97.9 the day after her positive OPK (or should I say "so called positive" OPK). Still feeling stupidly optimistic, she checked her cervix and fluid and, of course, things had gone back to their semi-fertile state.

"damn" she said, loudly in the bathroom to herself upon seeing the high quality fluid.

Defeated and convinced she would never be able to conceive a child naturally, she drove to Dr. Army's office on Monday morning. He told her and Mr. Fruitychick that Mr. Fruity's morphology wasn't great. Overall, he wasn't worried since his count and all other factors were well above normal. However, he wouldn't recommend taking any type of chances with a timed intercourse cycle. It would be straight to IUI for them, after, of course, the sperm had had a nice bath and massage.

However, there was one bit of happiness for them, as our herione did leave the office with an actual perscription for glucophage, which she began that night. Oh yes, boys and girls, she had her tasty italian BMT from subway and down that pill went! She sat smuggly and held the bottle for a while, sure in her belief that it would be a panacea for all her ills.

But, the story takes another turn for the worse here. See, one of the nasty side effects of this potentially miracle drug is its ability to make the one who takes it very sick. Oh yes, she sat in the bathroom for many hours Monday night and even into the Day on tuesday. She went to a conference for work but spent a good amount of time there in the bathroom. When the catered lunch was served, she almost yakked upon it and so she left for the day.

Now she is at her husbands office, as it was on the way home and she doesn't have keys to his chariot. See, silly her, she thought she would be ok today, so she took public transportation with Mr. Fruity. She is currently waiting for her husbands meeting to be over, so that he can help her home to her favorite PJ pants, a warm bed, and puppies who wiggle with joy upon seeing her.

Will our herione make it through tuesday night? do not be certain, for our tale has not yet reached its conclusion. She may end up in the sweet future see seeks with such ferocity or she may end up chained in the "dungeon of the infertile" forever. She must take another pill tonight with a dinner she is surely not going to want and she must repeat to herself that it will all be worth it someday--someday hopefully not too far off.

Later in the week, we'll check back in with our herione to see if she has been able to battle the Dragon of Diarrhea into submission and if she is still as optimistic as she was monday morning.

Only time will reveal the end of this tale...

Goodnight, boys and girls, and sleep tight.