10 weeks. I’m tired and baby doesn’t seem to like food (which is weird…cuz I’ve always liked food). Any time I eat, which isn’t often, I feel painfully, uncomfortably full, like I’ve just inhaled a double Thanksgiving dinner.
Back when I could still eat, this was my only “weird” craving: sausage pizza covered with avocado. I thought it perfectly normal. And delicious.
Still terrified of miscarriage. In fact, I got that sonogram pic a little ahead of schedule because I was out at a bar with friends, experienced some spotting, and thought it was the end of the world. In my defense, spotting is a very vague term. It didn’t seem like spotting. It seemed like the end of the world.
A handful of people know about my pregnancy now, but not everyone. I’m still walking around with a strawberry-sized secret.
Right now I’m trying to make choices on genetic testing. Doc seems ambivalent about it.
Today was graduation at the high school where I work. I realized in about 18 years, my baby will graduate, and I started crying.
I can’t quite fathom it. My research said 3-6 tries on average for an IUI, so I was preparing- financially and emotionally- to hunker down.
I’m pregnant.
I was sure I wasn’t. I felt all crampy, exactly like I normally do when my period is on the horizon. I went out dancing with a friend and had two glasses of wine. She commented that a lot of times people seem to know when they’re pregnant and if I thought I wasn’t, I was probably right.
I woke up at 2am and I suddenly knew I was pregnant.
Of course, I say I knew easily in this narrative. It could just as easily have been ha-ha, remember when I woke up and thought I was pregnant?
I waited until 4am to take the test. Such a light line on the wondfo that it was practically invisible. I thought I was crazy. Went back to bed.
I took another wondfo when I woke up. Another light line. So I went out to get a fancy First Response test. Three tests now. All faint lines.
This is a time it would be nice to have a partner, because who do you tell? I texted my best friend from college. Still sitting on the toilet. Staring at that faint pink line.
I understand, of course, that I’m actually pregnant. And I’m excited, of course. But I’m also terrified. So much can go wrong, especially in this first trimester.
Now I’m trying to decide who to tell, because I’m awful at keeping secrets, and I don’t want to be in this totally alone. Also how to people handle walking around like this and not blabbing to everyone?
My first prenatal appointment isn’t until the end of May. How is that possible? There’s so much to worry about. No one’s going to tell me what to do?
Me (on phone, to Nurse): So what do I do til then? Just hang out being pregnant?
Nurse: Pretty much. And take your prenatal vitamin.
If I calculate from my last period, even though I ovulated late, I’m due December 30th. So I don’t know for sure what YEAR my baby will be born!
Also:
…and I’ll leave you with that golden image. I’m going to try to get some not crazy sleep.
If this round of IUI works, and I do become pregnant, I’d like to think that fertilization happened around 4:30 in the morning when I woke up and felt so very happy. I got up to go to the bathroom and literally thought: “You’re doing great! You look good, you cleaned your house, and your body is, right now, doing amazing things. It’s going to make a human. You’re incredible.”
This morning when I went for my first IUI, the world was dark and dreary and I was full of doubt. But this afternoon is the first real day of Spring, high 70s, shining sun, flowers in bloom. It’s an afternoon to believe in the possibility of new beginnings…
My cold and my anxiety levels had been getting much worse since my last post. Finally, FINALLY, yesterday evening, on Day 18 of my cycle (I usually get my LH surge on Day 13 or 14), I got that precious dark line. The clinic was closed already, so I called as soon as they opened to schedule my appointment.
I did get berated- over the phone and later at the office- for testing in the evening so they had to scramble to get things ready today. My doctor said that from now on, I should only test in the mornings…but I really feel like if I had done that, I would have missed it. Also, I told the nurse that I spoke to on Day 16 that I was testing three times a day and while she seemed to think that was excessive (yeah, I knew it), she said nothing about mornings.
After being on hold for fifteen minutes (and hung up on once), I got an appointment for 9. The plan was I would come at 9, thaw my sperm for half an hour, and then wham, bam, quick insemination, and back to work. I scrambled to find coverage for my classes, but most of the appointment fortunately fell within my planning period. The more tries it takes, the more difficult it is going to be to come up with excuses as to why I need to leave the building ASAP. I am a superhero. I lead a double life.
Because of traffic, I arrived almost ten minutes late. I called ahead to let them know. I still ended up waiting for over half an hour. I had a book with me, but I couldn’t really focus on it. I kept trying to stay calm, because I read that that’s helpful for insemination, but at this point, I was freaking out that I wouldn’t be back in time for my next class.
Finally the nurse came and got me and took me to my exam room. After that, things happened pretty quickly.
This is where the magic happens.
The nurse brought me my sperm vial. I had to confirm that it was the correct number (memorize this- I did not know) and sign a form to that effect. The sample had 20,000 sperm, which is significantly more than what is needed. She told me to keep it level and hold it in my hand to warm it up.
Can you believe this tiny vial is holding 20,000 sperm? (and now, I guess my body is???)
I took a few pics (obviously) and texted my friend who wanted to know how things were going. She was the only person I told exactly what and when I was doing this today, and only because she asked. I had toyed with the idea of inviting someone- one of my sisters, or a friend- to come with me, but it all happened so fast, there was no time. Honestly, it was better this way. In and out, a quick procedure.
I really wished the room had some music. Something soothing. The other clinic I visited and turned down I felt was too spa-like, but I could have used something spa-like today. While I was sitting there, I felt horribly unprepared. I felt like a kid undertaking something too big, something she couldn’t comprehend or in any way be prepared for. But I comforted myself with the fact that no one is ever truly prepared for parenthood.
The doctor came in and the actual procedure took about two minutes. He inserted the speculum and told me there would be a pinch, then some light cramping. I felt the discomfort from the speculum but never felt the catheter for the IUI. I wish he would have spoken a bit more about what he was doing. I only knew a lot about what was going on because I had done my own research.
Then he told me to get dressed and meet him in the main room of the clinic and we would talk about what else I needed to do (besides get pregnant- his words). And it was over. I can definitely see why some people prefer midwives and in-home insemination. There was no atmosphere, nothing comforting, no real communication. I was a cog in the baby-making factory. But, if it works, I’ve no complaints.
When we talked afterwards, the doctor was concerned that I was ovulating so late. If I am not pregnant this cycle and my period doesn’t come later to match the late ovulation, he wants to start me on clomid. I don’t have a problem with this, but I don’t think it’s necessary. I told him that I thought this was unusual and I have previously gotten my LH surge on Day 13 or Day 14.
Then I got into my car and drove back to work. Outside, it was a normal day, but inside…the chase is on, right? There are 20,000 little guys, a stranger’s sperm, trying to track down my one little egg. I really don’t believe it will take on the first try- statistically, I have read that it takes 3-6 tries. But somewhere inside me, there’s a biological survival of the fittest brawl in progress. And so begins my first Two Week Wait.
Good luck, fellas.
Ooh, I get to see the insemination graphic on my Kindara chart for the first time! And yes, I am bad at keeping track of my temp.
A Star Danced: My Path to Single Motherhood 