The Last Straw

I went out last week with a girlfriend. She and I took advantage of the short time that I can have a drink (now and then; you know, two weeks on, two weeks off) and we went to a pub for a pint after work. It was wonderful to sit and chat with her and forget the cruel "infertile" thoughts that creep into my mind and permeate my day. Every day. Every. D*mn. Day. *sighs*

Anyway, she and I were chatting about a particular co-worker of hers (whom I know, given that she and I worked together in the past) who'd given it a shot at hooking up with her for some "fun." She and I had a giggle about it all, because quite frankly, this man is not someone I would see her with. Or me. Or almost ANYONE for that matter. He's rather, um... well... Let's just say that my mother taught me that, "If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all." *clamps her lips tightly shut*

And in reference to this man, my friend said, "God, can you imagine? It'd be like boinking an amoeba." She laughed. And while I laughed with her, I thought to myself, "Yanno, THAT is it. That is the feeling I have when I'm lying on the examining table, spread eagle for all the world to see, while the doctor does an IUI. It's like boinking an amoeba. Like... you feel that it isn't right. You feel nothing. It doesn't 'do it' for you, yanno? It isn't the way you imagine getting pregnant. It isn't 'normal' and it certainly doesn't merit pillow talk or a cigarette afterwards. H*ll, not even a passionate kiss. Sheesh!" (Before you ask, no, I don't smoke. Just evoking popular expression.)

Boinking an amoeba. The very moment the doctor put the speculum in on Monday for my appointment this month, I laughed, thinking of the conversation I'd had with my girlfriend. Oh well. Whatever gives you those endorphins I guess! LOL

Anyway, to keep you all updated, I managed with the Clomid well enough. There was some discomfort on Saturday evening (CD11) and I suspected I might have ovulated. On Monday (CD13) I had an appointment at 7 a.m. Those follies were STILL THERE! YAY! I had two good-sized, mature follicles at 1.9 and 2.2. The endometrium measured 8.9. The doc was very pleased with that. My temp had dropped a little the night before. And EWCM was present, cervix high and open; all good signs. So he did an IUI and gave me an HCG shot to make those follicles release. He gave me a prescription for 200mg of progesterone and sent me on my way. Off I went to work and got on with my day.

Then I went back for the follow-up on Tuesday at 7 a.m. He checked with the dildo cam, and lo and behold, both follies were gone! Lots of free fluid. And the CM was drier, but the cervix still open. I told him I'd had twinges at about 10 a.m. on Monday. He figured that we would try again, so he prepped and did another IUI with the last straw of little guys that we had left. He remarked, "This is the last straw that you have back there." And we both made a comment to the effect that this one had better work, or we move on to something else next time, likely donor sperm. We have an appointment with him on the 10th to discuss our next route. So this really is the "last straw." *crosses her fingers tightly*

Well, he did the second IUI on Tuesday at 7:28 a.m. and I lay there for about 10 minutes before getting up to dress. By the time I had dressed, caught the elevator downstairs and walked to the parking lot, I was cramping. Eeesh. Badly too. Rarely do I have cramps or discomfort after an IUI, but holy moly was I ever feeling it! I was gasping for air and doubled over by the time I sat behind the steering wheel. I tried to relax, and called hubby. Yes, I would be okay to drive, but rather than go right to work, I decided to go home to lie down for an hour or so. I did just that, and rubbed my abdomen, trying to unknot the tension. Cramping with a capital "C." Not fun. Ugh.

I met hubby at 9:30, picking him up so he could drive me to my office, rather than have me walk the 10-15 mins from the far lot into my building. I spent the day at my computer, editing documentation, but lemme tell ya, right after work, I headed home to the comfort of the bed again. I managed to rest a bit, catching some sleep actually.

And I am paying super close attention to my body. There are some months when he does a procedure and I feel nothing. Absolutely nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch. So I know pretty quickly that it didn't work. And there are some months when I just feel like (as another blogger put it) that there is "construction" going on down there. Gurglings, rumblings, twinges, pangs. Whatever. I am holding my breath that the "construction" I sense right now means luck for us. Time will tell. Please God, let us be blessed this time.