November 14-26, 2015

It’s two days after my 2nd failed IUI pregnancy text results, and we are about to have a house full of 60 of our closest friends and some family for our 11th annual Friendsgiving. Sure, this was a nice distraction, but I can honestly say my enthusiasm and excitement for this year’s party was the lowest of all years. I was quickly reminded of my infertility when our friends with their adorable kids showed up. The good thing about this Friendsgiving is that I also got my period. Bet you never thought you’d hear Friendsgiving and period as a positive thing in the same sentence!? What this means is that on Monday I can start the process for IUI #3.

On Monday, I go to visit the baby businessman for the usual day 3 blood work and ultrasound to baseline my hormones and get clearance to proceed with IUI #3. All is good to go and we’re ready to try this one last time before moving forward with trying IVF. My doctor explains to me that this round will be a bit more aggressive and invasive with the hormone meds. Surprisingly, my baby businessman saved us some money for this round. He sent me home with a multiple-dose injection pen called Gonal-F. It was donated by a patient who no longer needed it, but set to expire next month. Little did I know this was a huge money saver (which I later learn) and saved me from spending nearly $450 out of pocket.

JM continued to serve his role as injection administrator throughout IUI #3. I don’t know what it is, but I simply cannot look at needles going into the skin. If it weren’t for JM, I’d probably have to hire someone to give me these injections daily, but thank goodness it didn’t come down to this.

Being on Gonal-F requires a little more monitoring appointments. After my day 3 baseline appointment, I had 5 more blood work and ultrasound monitoring appointments (to include on a Saturday morning) over the next 7 days. JM and I kept joking that it would be really funny if turns out the actual IUI procedure ends up being on Thanksgiving. Sure enough, on Tuesday, 24 November the baby businessman informs me that it looks like I’ll be ovulating on Thanksgiving. Our joking was now a reality.

Immediately when I got home after work, I told JM that our joking is no longer a joke. We some how have to make it work to do an IUI on Turkey Day. I think I’ve said it before in a past post, but I’ll say it again. INFERTILITY FORCES YOU TO LIVE IN THE PRESENT MOMENT. Plans? What plans? There is no such thing as planning ahead in my life anymore. I’ve always been a planner and always needed to know what I’m going to be doing ahead of time. Infertility has taught me that I don’t always need to plan and I can allow my life to be flexible.

It’s Thursday, 26 November. Thanksgiving! Did I mention that we’re having my family, JM’s family, and our old neighbors Tom and Melissa over for Thanksgiving dinner? No big deal.  It’s only 15 people over our house. My mother offered to cook Thanksgiving dinner at our house since JM and I already had plans to host Christmas dinner this year. Call it a coincidence or perhaps God’s plan. We’ve never had someone else host a holiday at our house. JM and I do our own hosting. Looking back, I’m convinced this was God’s plan. He knew all along we’d have our IUI on Thanksgiving and therefore he had my mom offer to do all the Thanksgiving cooking at my house. Just the thought of this all working out gives me the goosebumps.

JM left the house at 8am to drop off his swimmers to the doctor’s office nearly an hour away from our house and back. My mom didn’t ask where he went, but when it was time for me to leave the house at 930am, she started to ask questions. See? The surprise factor is lost with infertility. I had no choice but to tell her I had to leave to go to the doctor’s for IUI #3.

My procedure was at 1030am. Once again the baby businessman shows me the specimen in the little tube is my husbands, directed to “undress from the waist down,” “scoot forward,” “scoot some more”, “feet up”, and “okay, now lay there for 5 minutes.” I said a little prayer while I laid there this time. Thanksgiving is mine and JM’s holiday. We love this day. I started to convince myself that this is a sign and this IUI is definitely going to work because God knows this is our favorite day of the year.

I got home just 30 minutes before our company was to show up. My mother begins asking me 10 million questions about the procedure and it’s annoying as hell and stressing me out. I simply didn’t want to talk about it and just wanted to enjoy the rest of the day. When our friends Tom and Melissa showed up, I immediately told Melissa I had my last IUI this morning. The look of shock on her face was priceless. She couldn’t believe I had to have it this morning. Then Melissa offered me the most selfless thing anyone can ever offer a friend.

Melissa offered to be our surrogate if it comes down to it. I can’t remember my exact response to her, but I’m pretty sure I shed a couple tears and simply said “thank you” while in a state of shock. I mean, how does anyone respond to that? Suddenly I felt like stress melted off my shoulders. If the issue is truly that I just can’t carry our own child, we have someone very special in our lives willing to do the most selfless act for us just so we can start our family. Of course in return we’d compensate her… and probably make her the godmother. I’m getting ahead of myself now.

I probably should have sat on my ass and watched football the rest of the day, but instead I was on my feet quite a lot to help my mom with the cooking and cleaning up after dinner. Looking back, I probably over did it and if I could do it all over again, I would have relaxed. For the time being, the infamous countdown begins again. We have to go through another two-week wait and count down the days until December 10th.

Bitter Infertile Bitch

October 16 – October 28, 2015

I’m pretty sure yesterday made it #21. Twenty-one negative pregnancy tests. You’d think after 20 negatives I’d begin to get used to it and not let it get to me anymore. Nope. Not true. The 21st time hurt just as much as the 1st – maybe even more. For my readers who are fortunate enough to never experience infertility or have no idea what it’s like, let me tell you something. Infertility often causes women to feel inadequate, especially about their own bodies. As I’m about to begin IUI #2 I feel angry and disappointed with my body because my body is not capable of doing the most basic thing women are created to do.

After I told JM the first IUI didn’t work, I slowly began to tell only a few of my girl friends. I don’t know why I told them. Probably because I just needed to vent. Probably because I needed emotional support. I texted a couple of my girl friends the news. Big mistake. I got the exact opposite of emotional support. If you remember from my Infertility Etiquette post, #10 said don’t voluntarily share your friend’s fertility success stories unless the infertile person asks. What happened today is the reason behind why I posted #10. I know my friend meant well, but after I told her my first attempt at an IUI didn’t work, she texted back telling me one of her friends had success with her first IUI and she got pregnant naturally with her second. I waited an hour before texting back letting her know what she said was inappropriate. At this point, I was more down on myself than before.

I knew the baby-business man said IUIs probably won’t work for me, but he did say there is still a chance. It was my and JM’s decision to do the IUIs rather than jump right into IVF primarily for financial reasons. We’d rather take that small chance of success from an IUI for only a couple hundred dollars rather than take the risk of IVF and wasting $15,000 if an IUI could work. In the meantime, we’re on a spending hiatus and saving as much money as possible to prepare for IVF expenses just in case. Remodeling our home has slowed down, and we’re trying desperately hard to live off one salary and save the other.

On a positive note, my Dad finally moved out of our house a couple days later and into his own apartment. It didn’t take long for Aunt Sally to arrive. She showed up exactly 3 days after my negative pregnancy test. Needless to say, for the start of the second IUI cycle, I wasn’t as excited. I mean, I was ready to move on and get the second cycle started already, but I guess what I really mean is my optimism wasn’t as obvious as the first cycle. I went in to see my baby-business man for the usual morning ultrasound and bloodwork monitoring on Tuesday, 20 October. My baseline levels were all normal and we were ready to move forward with try #2.

Since Clomid did jack crap for me, the doctor put me on a different oral medication called Femara (aka. Letrozole). Again, the meds really didn’t effect my mood at all and I was super grateful for that (as was JM, too). Since my body is like clockwork and I ovulate on day 11 practically every time, my doctor said he didn’t want to see me again until day 9. Woo. I get to enjoy a normal work schedule the rest of the week.

In the meantime, while I waited for day 9 to arrive, I carried on with my normal life. I continued going to the chiropractor 2x that week, and went to my yoga and HIIT gym classes. (Something to note, when you do these fertility treatments, the Doctors don’t want you to do any high-activity during the 2 week wait. For gym-goers… this is super hard to do and rough both physically and mentally.)

On Saturday, JM and I had two weddings to go to… yes two. These two friends are the type of friends we’d never miss their weddings for anything in the world. We were determined to make it to both somehow and are quite proud to say we did it. We drove an hour and a half south to make it to the ceremony and cocktail hour of the first wedding. Since there was the possibility that this weekend was going to be my last weekend being infertile and I couldn’t drink at the other two weddings we went to earlier this month, JM was the designated driver while I enjoyed some wine. Then we drove back north an hour and a half and made it to the reception of the second wedding. What a night.

When we got home that night, JM shared some news he received tonight regarding someone we know. Someone we know intensionally had an abortion.

Jane + wine + hormone drugs + 21 months of infertility = a disaster.

I lost it. Tears just kept pouring down my cheeks. We just had a wonderful night at two different weddings and JM thought it was okay to tell me about someone’s abortion. This news had no place in my life and the person who told JM the news should have known better to not share that information with us. Angry is an understatement and upset doesn’t even begin to describe how I felt that moment. Here I am, as infertile as can be because of my endometriosis. Spending hundreds of dollars, putting my body through all kinds of different tests and drugs and getting prepared to spend thousands to just ATTEMPT to get pregnant. Meanwhile someone we know intensionally had an abortion.

This is the moment where my faith was at its all time lowest.

Four days after the double-header weddings, it was IUI day. I was taking a training course at work and had to head out early for the 2:45pm procedure. First thing when I arrived, the baby-business man confirms with me the specimen that was in the tube was indeed my husband’s swimmers. Once again I hear the usual words, “undress from the waist down,” “scoot forward,” “scoot some more”, “feet up”, and “okay, now lay there for 5 minutes.” *sigh* Just going through the typical IUI motions.


Once my 5 minutes were up, I get dressed and the nurse informs me that the dreaded 2-week pregnancy test will be on November 12th – two days before my 11th annual “Friendsgiving.” This is kinda a big deal for me. The timing here is critical. For those of you who know us personally know just how much Friendsgiving means to us. This Friendsgiving is either going to be the best one since my engagement or the absolute worst. Here we go again with the dreaded 2-week wait.


October 1 – 15, 2015

Ahh. It’s the dreaded two week wait (a.k.a. 2WW). Little did I know this would be the longest 2 weeks of my life. Thankfully I had a lot of plans lined up during these 2 weeks to include a concert, a hair appointment, a lot of chiropractor appointments to reduce stress, and two weddings. There is just one problem, I can’t drink at either of the open bar weddings. I know, #FirstWorldProblems. For a moment I tried to justify that it’s probably okay to “drink till it’s pink,” but I quickly talked myself out of that idea.

JM and I headed out of state for a fun wedding the first weekend of October. During this car ride we had a lot of time to talk about many “what ifs” in the event the IUI worked and I’m pregnant. We didn’t want to keep our hopes up too high, but it was inevitable. We were bound to talk about our future with this hypothetical IUI baby. We figured out that the timing couldn’t be more perfect and we were so excited at the thought of announcing a pregnancy to our family and friends either on Thanksgiving or at our annual Friendsgiving. For those of you who don’t know us personally, JM and I met at my annual Friendsgiving 2 years before we started dating and he also proposed at my annual Friendsigiving in front of 60 of our closest family and friends. For a moment I was convinced this was God’s plan and he wanted us to be able to celebrate and announce the news on our most favorite day of the year.

Since the out-of-state wedding was a very casual southern wedding and I knew the bride and groom had stocked the open bar with beer and wine. I decided to bring a bottle of non-alcoholic wine with me to disguise the possibility of me being prego. Genius, I know. After the ceremony, JM went out to the car and put the bottle of wine in his suit jacket. He handed the bottle to the bartender and asked her to only serve me that bottle. Our plan worked like a charm. No one questioned me, and I was seen “drinking” with my college girls the entire night.

By the fifth day into my 2WW, I began to scrutinize and over-analyze every feeling. Even if it was something that happened every single day, suddenly I found myself asking if it’s pregnancy symptoms. It is a terrible mind game and complete torture. Once again, I began another round of obsessive Googling. Looking back, I now find my Googling humorous, but I’m certain many women can relate and have done the same. For your entertainment, below are some of the mind games I threw into Google:

  1. All of a sudden I noticed a funny smell. In fact, I smell everything. My sense of smell has taken over. I must be pregnant.
  2. OMG my stomach is grumbling. It’s bubbling. I must be pregnant.
  3. I feel cramps. Is that my period coming or is that a sign of implantation?
  4. I don’t have implantation spotting. Does this mean I’m not pregnant?
  5. How soon can I take a pregnancy test during my 2WW?
  6. I went to bed at 8PM. I’m tired. I must be pregnant.
  7. I went to bed two nights in a row at 8PM. I must be pregnant.

And the ridiculous list of questions goes on. Get my point?

On day 9 of my 2WW, JM and I had date night plans to see Megan Hilty perform at this really cute and intimate 300-person concert hall. Some of you may remember her as Ivy Lynn from the TV show “Smash” or Glinda from Wicked. This was my second time seeing her perform. She ended her show with “Rainbow Connection” and dedicated it to her baby daughter. I lost it. Absolutely freggin’ lost it. My face was drenched from my tears. I could see in the corner of my eye JM’s head turned towards me realizing I was a mess and put his arm around me. Once again, hormones have taken over.

The next day, (day 10 of my 2WW) JM and I have another wedding to go to, making it the second this month. It was a gorgeous day and thankfully it was a small wedding consisting of only a couple of my closest friends in attendance. Since the wedding was about 45 minutes from our home, JM and I decided the best way to cover up my possible pregnancy by not drinking is to tell my girls I am the designated driver this time. I ordered a virgin mojito very early into the afternoon, clearly making it look as if I was actually drinking the real thing. The excuse worked like a charm. Even though I was the “designated driver,” I still ordered only one glass of red wine to disguise my non-drinking and pretended to take a couple sips with the fabulous steak dinner.

I have to say, pretending I’m not pregnant was not as hard as I thought it was going to be after all!

The next day I began brainstorming ways I can surprise JM with the news if it turns out the IUI worked. I came up with some really special ideas (ideas I won’t blog about because I do hope to be able to do this one day). I Googled ways other women have told their husbands and quickly ruled out all the cliche announcements and unoriginal ideas. The thought of the surprise announcement gets me so excited. A little too excited. Perhaps at this point I started to work myself up with too much hope. Again, I become obsessed with the idea this IUI worked.

Two days before my blood pregnancy test at my doctor’s office I cracked. One of the rules my fertility doctor and nurses stressed many times is to not do any at-home pregnancy tests before my actual blood test. Apparently the different hormone drugs can give false positive or negative results and the only true way to get an accurate result is a blood test. Although I had a 50 pack of the cheap pee stick tests, I decided I should upgrade and get a “more accurate” fancy pee-stick test just to be safe. I just couldn’t wait anymore and went to the pharmacy and bought (for the very first time mind you) a “real” pregnancy test. I had never bought one before. And yes, yes I had to read the directions on how to take the test.


There is this fine line with hoping for the best, but expecting the worst. I thought if anything else, this at-home pregnancy test is preparing me for the bad news. Just when I thought a 2-week wait was going by so slow, waiting 2-minutes for the center of the stick to show me one or two lines was dragging. When the 2-minutes were up, I look at the stick to see what appeared to be one line. This can’t be. There is no way. The doctor injected my husband’s swimmers as close as possible to my egg and I’m still not pregnant?

Then I did what you probably think I did. I tried squinting, holding the pee stick up against the light, and balanced myself on my bathroom vanity sink to try to get closer to the light. All this to see if there is a possible faint second line that is mostly invisible to the naked eye, but possibly present. Still no second line. I throw the stupid $10 stick in the trash bin and move on with my day, resolving that it’s probably indeed too early to test anyways and tell myself I’ll try again in a few hours. I must admit, I tortured myself a bit throughout the day by returning to the trash bin every hour for the rest of the day in case the second line appeared on the stick.

Later that night and even the next morning before my blood test I continued to torture myself with two more pregnancy tests, but these times using the cheap sticks. It’s official. Confirmed. I mentally prepared myself enough to know that the IUI did not work and I’m not pregnant. $300 down the drain.

I go in for my blood pregnancy test in the morning knowing this is wasting my time. I was far from excited about taking this test. However, even though I prepared myself by taking the home pregnancy tests knowing it’s possible all three tests were false negatives, there was still an ounce of me that held onto hope. This 2WW thing is terrible for my mind and all these mind games. My mind was obviously focused on this all day. It was all I could think about. Finally, at around 2PM I get a call from my assigned nurse and she informs me I’m not pregnant and to stop taking the progesterone suppositories. She continues to tell me that I should get my period in about 3 days and to call when I get it so we can move forward with IUI try number two. Even though I knew before the blood test I wasn’t pregnant, the news I just heard over the phone destroyed me. Tears fell down my cheeks. I quickly grab a tissue off my desk at work and turn my chair so that no one else in the office could see me sobbing. Once I managed to get myself together, I continued on with my work day and no one knew the news I just received moments ago.

JM didn’t know I had my blood pregnancy test on October 15th. He had softball in the evening and I decided to wait to tell him the bad news until after he got home. I didn’t want him to know today was the day of the test because if it was positive results, I wanted to be able to surprise him with the good news. However, since the news was negative, I was upset he wasn’t home to be there to comfort me and it killed me I was about to cause him some heartache. To fill the time until JM would be home, I decided to go to the gym that night and let my emotions and frustrations out with a high intensity class.  Oh, and I had a glass of red wine… maybe two, because in a few days I’ll be repeating the IUI process all over again.


September 6 – 30 , 2015

JM and I just got back from our very needed 8-day Dominican Republic vacation celebrating our 3-year anniversary. Yes, 3-years. Already. Two years too long baby-less. We made it a point to drink a lot of “mama wannas,” which is a famous liquor shot in the DR. I took it upon myself and nicknamed it “mama wanna-be’s.”

We were not ready to return to reality. However, finally our reality was heading in a positive direction. While we were away, my brother Tyler took care of a bunch of things for our Dad. Tyler got him a lease for an apartment literally 1-mile from my house in my housing development for the 55+ starting mid-October. This location could not be more perfect for JM and I, but more importantly for my father.

Besides my dad’s situation heading in a positive direction, we were less than 2-weeks away from my September period cycle starting. I have mixed feelings about this because JM and I were secretly hoping my period wouldn’t come. We were hoping we were “relaxed” enough on our vacation and the baby gods were in our favor. TMI? Sorry. Not sorry. I’m just pointing out the lame advice everyone gave us.


In the meantime while we waited for my period to arrive, JM and I had to take an hour-long IUI class on September 10th. If you’re wondering, yes, it was at 1030AM in the middle of our work day. Very convenient. Not! See, the thing is, this class was foreshadowing what’s to come. Looking back, I should have taken this class as a sign that I will need to be patient, flexible, and prepared to have my work schedule interrupted constantly for appointments and doctor phone calls. This class was all about how to give self injections. There was no way I was going to do the injections myself. Nope. Not happening. There is a reason why I did not major in the medical field and needles is on the top of my list of reasons why. I don’t mind when someone is taking my blood or giving me shots. I just can’t look at the needle going in me. From this point forward, JM earned a new title. He’s now my “injection administrator.”

Remember in my last post on “Project Parenthood” I talked about the blood test JM and I did to see if we are carriers of over 200 different recessive diseases? Well, the day after our IUI class we received our results. I’d be lying if I told you I wasn’t nervous opening up the results. The last thing we wanted was more bad news. It turns out that once again JM’s results are just fine and perfect. I, on the other hand, received a shock of a lifetime. I’m not just a carrier of some extremely rare recessive disease, I freggin’ HAVE one of those recessive diseases on the list. I couldn’t believe it. For sure I thought they sent me someone else results.

It turns out I have Biotinidase Deficiency. Thankfully it’s a highly-treatable, but inherited disease in which the body cannot process the vitamin biotin. However, if left untreated it can cause seizures, poor muscle tone, difficulty with movement and balance, vision and/or hearing loss, skin rashes, breathing problems, fungal infections, and delayed mental development. Here’s the good news about all this though, I’ve been taking biotin supplement pills daily for the last 7+ years. Seven years ago, I noticed my hair was starting to thin out and my nails simply would not grow. After doing research on natural ways to fix this problem, I started taking biotin. It turns out I was actually treating myself all these years without knowing it! Going forward, I just have to take biotin for the rest of my life. The odds of passing it down to my future child is 1 in 450. My doctor was just as shocked to hear I have this recessive disease and commented that he would have never guessed it since I have such long, luscious, and healthy hair. I immediately called Tyler to tell him my recent diagnosis so he can decide whether or not to get tested, too. There is a 25% chance he could have it as well.

Back to my baby-issues….It turns out we didn’t get pregnant during our vacation despite the advice I got from countless number of people who said “just relax and it will happen.” Lets be real. We seriously have never been so excited for my period to start. It’s September 18th and it’s go time. Project parenthood just got real. Like real real. Except, there is just one small thing… JM, my Dad, Tyler and I are all headed down to my father’s condo 7.5 hours away to officially move his stuff to my our home. I immediately call my baby-business doctor and thankfully I don’t have to go in to see him until the 3rd day of my period which makes it Monday, September 21st. Woo. We’re in the clear.

Fast forward to Monday. I arrived to what felt like as if I walked into this exclusive club. I decided to call it “TTCC” — Trying To Conceive Club — for blood and ultrasound monitoring. It’s like I’m in line at the deli counter. Basically what happens (at least for my specific office) is you come in to the TTCC anytime between 7-9AM. First, you get your blood drawn to baseline your hormone levels, and then you go into a separate room and kick up your heels into those lovely stirrups for a vaginal ultrasound with either the ultrasound technician or the baby businessman (a.k.a Reproductive Endocrinologist or RE). The key things they measure are your uterine lining thickness, follicle count, and in my specific case, my endometriomas. Then my nurse handed me a prescription for Clomid which I was to start taking tonight and for the next 5 days. This appointment was all of 20 minutes and quick. The negative part after my appointment is now I have to deal with rush-hour traffic to work. Typically I leave for work by 6:30AM, but leaving after my morning monitoring appointment around 7:30AM doubles my commute time. Thank. God. For. Coffee. I try not to let this stress me out and just enjoy my morning coffee and a good morning radio show while creeping in traffic. The last thing I need right now during my first-ever IUI cycle is stress.

When I got to work, I decided to let my boss know what is going on. My boss knows I like to be early in and early out at work, and I didn’t want her to be concerned seeing me come in late and leaving late over the next two weeks. The conversation went really really well and thankfully she’s very supportive. I couldn’t be more grateful for that. Looking back, there is no way I could have had these sporadic medical appointments with my previous job. After the conversation with my current boss, it was confirmation that I made the right choice to leave my last job for this position primarily so I could focus on our pursuit of baby journey. I absolutely made the right choice.

Later that afternoon, I got a follow-up phone call with my assigned nurse at the baby business. She informs me that all my hormone levels are normal, and reminds me to start the Clomid that night. I’ve been told from some of my mommy friends who have PCOS that Clomid made them super hormonal and emotional. I mentally prepared to be hormonal this week and gave JM a fair warning.

My nurse also let me know that she put an order into the special fertility pharmacy for Bravelle and Ovidrel and should expect a call from them today. Let me be upfront about something. My health insurance does not cover any fertility injections at all. This is going to be paid completely out of pocket. We’re already going to be paying 20% for our IUI costs – which we knew would cost us a couple hundred, but we have no idea what to expect to pay for the injection medicines. I made up some random number in my head just so I’m mentally prepared when I get the call that I’ll be paying a lot.

Later that evening, I got a call from the fertility pharmacy. It turns out the two single-dose injection medicines were only $128. Sure, that dollar figure sucks, but it was much less than what I was prepared to pay out of pocket. The delivery was set for overnight. Don’t get me wrong, I love getting packages in the mail, but never did I think I’d be so excited to get fertility meds in the mail. Ever.

The 8 days were nothing but more morning blood work and ultrasound appointments – to include a 7:30AM Saturday morning appointment 45 minutes away from my house. One thing I learned from this experience is that you absolutely have to be willing to be flexible and expect the unexpected appointments – even on weekends. It’s part of the process. It felt like we were taking baby steps, literally, to get to the actual IUI procedure. I must admit, I took Clomid like a champ. I didn’t feel any change in my mood and JM even commented that he didn’t notice a difference with my mood either. That was certainly a relief for the both of us. As I got closer and closer to ovulation, my appointments became daily. I’d lay there in the stirrups watching my uterine lining get ticker and follicles get bigger. On my last monitoring appointment, I observe that I’ll definitely be ovulating from my right side.

On a side note, JM never came with me to any of these appointments. There was no point for him to ever be there. I don’t know why, but I found it hilarious when I saw the male partners present for their future-baby-mama’s morning monitoring appointments. To each their own, but I just don’t get it. Perhaps some women need more support than others, but I was not going to waste more of JM’s time than I already have these last 2 years trying to get knocked up to give him the baby he deserves.

When it was time for my plumbing parts to ovulate, JM had to give me what’s called a “trigger shot” (otherwise known as the drug Ovidrel). Basically this shot times exactly when I’ll ovulate — 36 hours to be exact.

My life sure isn’t boring right now. It’s September 30th and it’s time to make a baby… at precisely 2:45PM! I went to work like it was any other normal day, except lets be honest – I was distracted. No one at work knew I was going through this process except for two people – my boss and one other coworker who I’ve quickly bonded with over the last couple of months. I couldn’t keep this exciting secret to myself. I was bursting with excitement knowing what was going to happen at 2:45PM and I was even more excited that my coworker was excited for me. This support system certainly made things a bit easier for me.  I had this IUI on my mind the whole day. The clock ticked ever so slowly. JM had to drop off his prized specimen two hours before the actual IUI so they could clean his swimmers. So when the clock turned 12:45, I knew he was probably arriving with the better half of our future baby… in a brown paper bag. Literally.

I arrive on time for my 2:45PM appointment. Alone. I didn’t ask JM to be there, but looking back, I probably should have asked him to be there. At least that way he could feel like he was present for when his future child was possibly conceived. For the last and final time, I put my feet up into the stirrups. The baby-making salesman shows me a little tube and paper containing information assuring me that the specimen that is about to go inside me is indeed my husband’s. The RE explains to me what he’s about to do with a foot-long catheter and what it will feel like. The IUI procedure literally takes all of 10 seconds to do. I’m not even exaggerating. The RE inserts the typical metal speculum and then inserts the catheter directly into the uterus. Then, I felt this ever so slight cramping sensation. Next he injects JM’s swimmers into the catheter and afterwards removes the catheter and tells me to remain laying on the table with my legs closed for 5 minutes. So, all those blood and ultrasound appointments, and all those drugs and needles…. just for a 10 second procedure. This. Better. Work.


After my 5-minutes is up, I decide to remain laying down for one extra minute for good luck. After I got dressed, I met with my nurse to go over “next steps.” At this point, I’m told to not do anything strenuous for the next few days and I most certainly cannot do my HIIT class. Even though I’m done with the injections and Clomid, I now need to take progesterone suppositories 2 times a day up until my pregnancy test in 2 weeks. These are going to be the longest 2 weeks of my life. My pregnancy test is scheduled for October 15th – which seems like months away.


Upon leaving the office, I pause for a moment before starting my car. I say a prayer to everyone and anyone I know looking down on JM and I and pray that this IUI works. Only time will tell. In 2 weeks.

I’ll tell you one thing about this whole IUI process — it doesn’t take two to tango! Never did I think it would take roughly a dozen people (and counting) between my legs to knock me up. Get your head out the gutter people. I’m taking about a dozen different doctors, nurses, ultrasound technicians, and my husband. And, never did I ever think I’d get knocked up with my feet in stirrups. There is nothing about this process that is glamorous, but I will absolutely never ever forget it.