When I told my sister that I had been hired to blog about fertility, the very first thing she said was that I had to share my French restaurant story on my blog. My husband and I are Chick-Fil-A kind of people, and we were invited to dine at a very expensive French restaurant with his company. For anyone who knows us, this is amusing enough. I happened to be taking Clomid at the time, and the side effects made for quite an amusing story.

The entire story is 1400 words long, which is much too long for this blog. So, I have excerpted just the parts that pertain to the Clomid side effects. I trust you will be amused even without the rest of the story. It was fun for me to read something that I had written while going through fertility treatments. I had forgotten about the severity of some of the side effects.

The only background information you need is that my husband was new to the company, and this was the first time that I was meeting most of his coworkers. As his wife, I wanted to make a good first impression, but that presented a challenge as I struggled with hot flashes throughout the meal.

Without further ado, here is the story entitled Faith and Hub Dine at a French Restaurant:

For those of you who don't know, I have been taking some fertility drugs again. These particular drugs make me very, ah, emotional, shall we say? They amplify whatever I am feeling. If I am amused, I am really amused. If I am sad, I am really sad. And Hub can tell you about the irritability side-effects. Also, they give me hot flashes. (Kind of like being a walking toaster.)

The dinner started out with cocktail hour. And, you know what? They meant cocktail hour!! Yes, for a whole hour, we stood around talking and drinking cocktails. Hub isn't a drinker, and I was on medication, so we had to endure it sober.

Not only did this hour drag, but I was also having hot flashes the whole time. The restaurant was very cold (you know how they run the air conditioners in the South!!), so I was wearing a sweater. Then, I'd get a hot flash and start sweating and roasting . . . and take my jacket off. Then, the hot flash would pass, and I'd get cold and put my jacket back on. Off and on . . . off and on . . . If everyone else had been sober, they probably would have thought I was insane or at least incredibly fickle.

So, now we are to 8:00, one hour after I thought we would be eating. Here's where the hormones really kicked in. Remember I said that when I am amused, I am really amused? Well, I am sitting there with my steak and potato husband and looking over the menu to decide what I can possibly stomach. I am looking at all sorts of interesting options, such as frog legs, grilled tofu, and roasted rabbit. I looked up at hub, looked down at the menu, and started laughing . . . and laughing . . . and laughing. Keep in mind that I have never met most of the people in the room, and I am supposed to be making a good impression as the wife of the hopefully next partner in the company. I just kept trying not to snort from my laughter.

After about a half hour of giggling, snorting, and jacket removal/replacement, they finally take our orders and bring out some bread.

So, there you have it . . . Hub and Faith's first (and hopefully only) dining experience in a weirdo restaurant. Hub might just have to change careers to avoid similar experiences in the future!!

I hope you enjoyed this story. At least we got the humor factor out of it!

Related Topics:

• The "Joy" of Clomid
• Clomiphene Citrate
• Using an OPK While on Clomiphene

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