Sunday, July 26, 2009


I go for my first post-IUI blood work tomorrow. They'll be checking to see if I ovulated - although I don't know what they'll do if I didn't... And then if Aunt Flow doesn't show up by 8/6, I go for a pregnancy test. That's actually feeling sort of scary right now. I'm so used to the disappointment of it not working, I don't know what I'd do if it did work... But I've been feeling pretty optimistic this cycle. The IUI itself was uncomfortable, not painful. We were able to try again the old-fashioned way because I wasn't in pain, so I feel like we reinforced things. I rubbed my fertility totem over my belly a few times for luck.

So now it's just a waiting game for the next 2 weeks.

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Crossed Fingers

Today was IUI day. It started bright and early with IvoryBoy's alarm clock going off around 6am, when he jumped up and took the cup out of the fridge. We snuggled for a little bit, and then we got up - I went to go shower and he left the bedroom, closing the door behind him. I had to run after him and remind him that he had to keep the cup under his arm after he completed his portion of the science experiment.

Now - let me explain - we both feel sort of awkward about this. Last time, I tried to help, and it was nearly disastrous, and IvoryBoy ended up asking me to leave the room. So we agreed that he was on his own for this one. I showered and dressed and was nearly ready to leave when he sheepishly brought me the cup. I tucked it under my arm and headed out. Gotta keep the boys warm.

IvoryBoy went to work shortly after I got home, and then came back for me a few hours later. I remember from last time, that the speculum hurt, the catheter hurt, the transfer hurt, and then there were cramps. I was wincing and digging my nails into IB's arm, and he whispered that he was sorry he complained about what he'd had to do. So, considering how painful the first IUI was, I was quite nervous about this morning. I asked IB to drive me in case I was too miserable to do it myself. In the car, we talked about how much we hope it works, and I tried to concentrate on being a happy, hospitable environment for a little zygote to grow. I feared the worst, but it was amazingly less painful. Don't get me wrong, it was still uncomfortable, and I had cramps all day, but much less traumatic than last time. From what I've read on various message boards, if the timing isn't quite right, it hurts, so I'm feeling quite optimistic about today's treatment.

I also wanted to share something that made me feel all warm and squishy. This morning while we waited to be called in, a man came in carrying a gift bag, and spoke quickly to the nurse that "they" were hoping to see "her" before the procedure. The nurse called someone and asked him to sit down and wait. He was so nervous I wanted to go hug him and tell him not to worry. Then his partner came in, and the nurse brought them across the hall. A few minutes later they came back. From what I'd overheard, they were there for their surrogate's procedure, to conceive their child. Sometimes I forget that it's not only heterosexual couples having trouble conceiving sitting in the waiting room with me, but it's usually just the women you see. It made me feel encouraged that this couple was able to find a way to have their own child, so we can too.

I am a really lucky girl, to have IvoryBoy. I've known for a long time that this wasn't going to be easy, and if it weren't for his encouragement, I might've given up on having my own child. We had to wait a bit in the exam room today, while the Doctor was called into the surgical suite, and he was making me laugh and keeping my mood light and happy. He held my hand through the whole procedure, and kissed me and told me how much he loves me. It may not be romantic to conceive a child this way, but it is intimate in a different way. IB's now seen me with my feet up in stirrups, a pink paper drape across my lap, and in a weird way, it's made us love each other more. I've heard stories of men not being able to see their wives in a sexual way after having seen them give birth, etc. I know that won't happen for us.

So now we just have to keep our fingers crossed.

Monday, July 13, 2009

Last dose of Clomid

That's right - I just had my last dose of Clomid for this cycle. Now we wait. On Friday, I go for my next round of blood work and sonogram. They'll let me know when to inject the Ovadrel either Friday or Monday, depending on the progress of the follicles. Which reminds me that I didn't mention what happened on my Day 2 appointment. The Doctor doing the sonogram paused mid ovary-whap, said "Hmmm." clicked the mouse to measure some black circle on the screen (ovarian cyst??) and proceeded to remove and wipe off the wand. He said they'd call if there was a problem, but otherwise I was to start the Clomid that night. Ok. I was trying to remember that, and he left me to dress. When I left the room, he was nowhere in sight to ask about this mysterious circle. I called the office once I got to my office, and asked "Ok, what was that?"
It was an Ovarian cyst, but because my hormone levels were fine, they weren't concerned about it. So I started the Clomid, and as I mentioned up there, I finished taking that already.
It's probably being back on Clomid that's making me feel a bit nutty, but I was all sorts of freaked out about the cyst. How will that affect this cycle? How do the "black pearls" that I have affect my ability to release an egg? Do the "black pearls" heal?
SO I have a lot of questions for my doctor, obviously, but if anyone out there is reading this and has gone through this - do you know the answers?

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

Here it goes, Here it goes, Here it goes again...

I'll be heading back to the Reproductive Endocrinologist this week to start the next cycle. I called my health insurance provider this week to see how much money we had left in the lifetime allotment for infertility treatments, and I was pleasantly surprised. So far, none of the treatments that we've done have decremented from our total. We won't start using that up until or unless we progress to IVF and beyond. So now our only limitations for IUI is just what we can emotionally and physically handle.

Thursday, July 2, 2009

The Wand (or "You're putting that WHERE?")

When I was first diagnosed with PCOS, I hadn't gotten a period in nearly 9 months. As a sexually inactive college senior, I chalked it up to stress, but finally went to the clinic to get checked out, just in case. The doctor at the clinic drew some blood, and examined me, and prescribed Provera to bring on my errant period. I was also sent for a sonogram to check my ovaries. They asked me to drink 24 oz of water prior to the test, and hold my urine. I have a walnut sized bladder, so this was quite daunting. As the technician pressed on my abdomen with the songram thing, I whimpered and squeezed my PC muscles, praying for it to end so that I could go tinkle. Finally she stopped, and I nearly peed on the table. I ran down the hall, my open-in-the-back gown flapping, panties tucked under my arm, and nearly cried I was so relieved to... well, relieve myself.

After the doctor reviewed my test results, she determined that I did in fact have Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. So I did some research, and at the time, there wasn't much out there. I saw a lot of miscarriage rate statistics, and infertility statistics, and not too much about treatment. Fortunately, I had a great Ob/Gyn who prescribed metformin and BCP's, and got me regulated.

I hadn't known until I got my diagnosis that my depression and 100lb weight gain was part of PCOS too. I experienced a lot of the side effects, and gradually started feeling better.

When I moved, I needed to find a new doctor, and found a Reproductive Endocrinologist in my insurance company's catalog. I went for my initial exam, and they told me that I'd be having a sonogram, so I expected the same thing, the pressing on the belly until you pee kind of sonogram. Well. In the 10 years since, technology had developed a little something called THE WAND. This was a rather intimidating device, that examined the inside. They didn't warn me that they were using that one, and SURPRISE - they didn't buy me dinner first, either.

So at this point in our relationship, IvoryBoy and I were planning our wedding, and talking about going off the BCP's after the honeymoon. The RE was talking about putting me on Clomid right away. I thought to myself "We're not even married yet, lady!" but instead I told them we'd come back when we were ready.

To be continued...