So you're saying it's a good thing I kept my fat pants?

This is so what went through my mind when the nurse was describing the side effects of Clomid to me. Yes, I know. Thanks. I've been in too shitty of a mood that last couple of days to even attempt saying anything without being a total bitch about it.

Anyway, baseline ultrasound was today. I about had a freak out when I saw the size- those things are going to grow to 18-24? Holy hell. Then I realized they weren't in the same units. Stupid metric system. So I moved the decimal place one over and felt much better about myself. Oh, and I hate that stupid dildo cam. It's probably because I'm constipated that it hurt so much, but I don't care. I blame the dildo.

So we are officially off and running on our first medicated cycle. You'd think I'd be thrilled. Nope. Part of me wants to run away screaming. I'm terrified of jacking with the hormones in my body. Part of me is afraid that something will go horribly wrong and my ovary will explode (and thank you nurse for telling me that I could wait to fill my trigger, then after talking to the doctor telling me to make for certain I had it with me on Monday. Dude, Monday is CD6. Not funny).

And possibly the most frightening thing? This could actually lead to a baby. At this point that thought seems like such a pipe dream that the fact it could happen now is actually making me a little shaky- and very little from excitement.

Though I am tempted to send an e-mail to my coworkers warning them of the potentially moodiness and apologizing in advance for screaming at them then bawling two seconds later.