We need to talk.
You were supposed to be fooling my estrogen receptors into thinking I was running on empty. This in turn should have tricked my body into upping it's production, thereby creating follicles, which would release eggs.
It is cycle day 16, dear CloMood. And all I have to show for it is about five days worth of CloMood migraines, and achy ovaries. And since we both know from experience that neither of those mean anything, and are just annoying side effects... well, I think we know where this is going. Where's my ovulation, CloMood? Where's my egg?
CloMood, you were not the friend I thought you would be. While you did get me to ovulate a whopping two times (out of seven cycles) and I did get pregnant once with you (although it ended in miscarriage) well, CloMood, you are being a real pain in my arse. I don't like getting side effects with no main effect. And I am sick of it. You can not keep toying with me.
And you won't. CloMood, we have come to the end of our journey together. While we had some good times, they are far overshadowed by the downtimes. CloMood, this is your Dear John letter. This will likely be our last encounter. I wish we could end on a more postive note, but it is what it is. I am not entirely sad to see you go. I wish you'd take your side effects with you...