Test #2

OMG

Progesterone Levels

During my insemination last week, the doctor told me to come back in a week to test my progesterone levels and determine whether or not I ovulated.  This was the first time in all these tries that someone has mentioned I should do that during the 2WW.  While at the laundromat last night, I mentioned to S that I wasn't actually planning to go to the clinic today since I didn't see the point.  I'd know in a week whether or not I ovulated if I got my period or was pregnant.  To me, it seemed like just an annoyance to have to wake up early again, show up at the clinic and sit for an hour in the waiting room just to help them make more money.  S countered the point, saying he thought it was important, especially since it might give the doctors some more information about whether or not the meds I'm taking are effective.  I found myself feeling angry and resentful about having to go to the clinic again.  But I woke up this morning and went.  It wasn't that big a deal, and I got to work early.  And later in the day, I received a phone call from the clinic saying my progesterone levels indicated that I had, indeed, ovulated.  That's certainly positive news.

IUI #4

Today was yet another momentous day... IUI #4.  Though S couldn't be with me in person, it was still a smooth and uneventful process.  The doctor this time was a man, one who has performed ultrasounds for me before and isn't particularly my favorite.  But he did a good job with making me feel comfortable, being transparent about each step in the process, and approaching my body gently and with sensitivity.  I experienced only a mild cramp and then laid on my back to wait for a full ten minutes before getting up.



Knees up, with vial.


During the wait, I called S, who had thankfully had just completed an exam at his doctor's office and was available to chat for a few minutes.  "Remember, your body is perfect," he said, in typical loving, supportive, S form.  "And remember that life is wonderful."  His words calmed me and made me smile.  We hung up the phone and I stayed still, knees up, clutching the plastic "souvenir" vial from which our donor sperm came.  I prayed, and breathed, and counted my blessings.  I reminded myself how lucky I am to have the space, time, amazing support, and resources to go through this process of trying to conceive.

As I walked out of the building toward the train, I ran into our primary doctor on the street.  She saw me and smiled, and asked how I was doing.  I chose to take the encounter as a good sign from the universe.

The night before IUI #4

Tomorrow I'm going to the clinic for IUI #4.  But this time, it will be without S.  Due to the complications with his wisdom teeth, he had to reschedule an appointment with his cardiologist for tomorrow - before we knew it was the same day the IUI would be scheduled.  Since he only sees this doctor every 3-4 months, and it takes a while to get an appointment, we agreed it would make sense for him to go see his doctor and for me to go through the IUI alone.  It is a quick procedure, after all, and the doctors barely make eye contact with him, never mind greet him by name or involve him in the process.  So I think it will be fine.  There is a part of me that feels sad that he won't be there for emotional support.  He has been such a huge part of making each of the inseminations go well/smoothly for me.  And, psychologically, there is already so much loss in this medicalized process, that for him not to be there makes me feel he is yet another step removed from the process.  Still, I know it is okay.  I am strong, I am ready to receive our baby and to go through the process knowing that S is sending me his love, and is with me in spirit.  He'll be there to cuddle and comfort me at night when we both get home from work.

Guaiphenesin

Last week, S and I took the day off so he could visit the dentist and have two of his wisdom teeth removed.  While we sat for endless hours in the waiting room, a TV talk show called "The Revolution" aired with a focus on fertility.  I sat up a little straighter in my chair and sushed S when he tried to talk to me about unrelated matters.  I wanted to gather up all the tips I could get. 

In addition to some of the nutrition-related tips I already knew (eat lots of protein and dairy, which I have been doing), the TV doctor mentioned that cough syrup (guaiphenesin) might be a good thing to take around the time of ovulation to help thin out cervical mucous.  So I searched the web for more info.  While it's not backed up by much research, folks say that Clomid can actually increase "hostile" (i.e. thick) mucous, so taking guiphenasin can help make CM more "friendly" to sperm trying to get through the cervix.  However, for folks only trying IUIs (which bypass the cervix), taking this step won't really help.

Nevertheless, I figure it can't hurt to try, right?  Anything I can do for my body to help create a favorable environment for conception is worth it to me.  The prescription: 2 teaspoons of guiphenasin, 3 times per day for five days, with plenty of water.  Let's give it a try.

Professional Reassurance

I met with our primary doctor at the clinic this morning.  And she, more than anything, was incredibly reassuring.  I approached her with a long list of questions, and she answered them all with kindness and patience.  She studied my chart and declared that there were no particular flags that would indicate why I had not yet gotten pregnant.  "It's a numbers and odds game," she said.  She assured me that if we were a couple with access to unlimited sperm, I wouldn't have even been tested for infertility until after a year of trying.  She affirmed that we could, in fact, keep trying IUIs for a full year, if we had the financial capacity to do so.   Since others have reported successful pregnancies with our donor, we don't yet need to consider finding another one.  In fact, the only change she suggested was perhaps we could try doing two IUIs during a future cycle - one within 12 hours of using Ovidrel, and one within 36 hours.  That might increase our chances.

For the moment, we only have one vial left at the clinic, so we won't be able to try this approach until the next cycle.  But I left the clinic feeling much more optimistic than I did walking in.