Two Week Wait

Fifteen minutes at an early morning doctor's appointment was all it took to change my world.

Early on Friday morning, we bundled up and walked in the dark to our internal ultrasound appointment, breath puffing out like smoke against the cold morning air. The ten days before the appointment were ones spent in relative panic, fueled by irrational Google searches about 29-year old women declared barren and free of eggs and whose uterine cavities had been consumed by endometriosis. Stupid internet. Stupid baby-hungry brain.

We walked into an empty clinic office and took a seat in the waiting area. Within three minutes, we had been called back and Dr. Peterson was waiting for us with a wide smile. He had me get settled into the ultrasound room, stepped out to let me get all arranged from the waist down in a sheet, and then we did the ultrasound.

To my shock, he said, "your uterus looks great, no endometriosis, and while we're in here, since it's day 11 of your cycle, we can go ahead and check your egg follicles." He shifted the ultrasound wand and a round black spot showed up on the screen. An 18 millimeter egg follicle on the right side. Dr. Peterson noted the size and said, "that looks great. Almost ready to release. Let's check the other side, but it's rare to have them on both ovaries. Well, except for you, apparently." I had another mature, dominant follicle on the left side, at 21 mm. He noted all of the sizes, and told me that we would do an Intrauterine Insemination on Sunday morning. He prescribed an HCG trigger shot  for me to give myself on Friday night to stimulate the release of the eggs on Sunday morning, and twelve days of progesterone to be taken after the IUI to prepare the lining of my uterus for implantation.

The next 36 hours were a blur. I gave myself the trigger shot in my lower abdomen on Friday. I felt a little nauseated, and since then have felt this weird seasick feeling in my lower body-my uterine area down through my legs. Saturday night and Sunday I had some twinging around both of my ovaries, which I assume were the follicles rupturing. Sunday morning I had a major temperature drop, which can be indicative of ovulation if followed by a sustained rise over the next few days, and so far the pattern is holding steady. We began a fast on Saturday night (along with many dear friends and family members) and prayed especially for this procedure to work if it was God's will. I slept well, and felt peaceful.

On Sunday morning, I woke up at 6:15, showered, got ready, and tried to quell the anxiety in the pit of my stomach. My HSG in August was so traumatic that the thought of a date with another speculum and catheter scared the daylights out of me. All day, I felt the comfort of Heavenly Father with me as we went through every moment of the procedure.

I spent most of the day amazed not only by how simple this procedure was, but also by how many couples IUI has blessed. After the andrology and IVF lab had all of the necessary materials for the procedure, BJ and I went to relax for an hour while they centrifuged and prepared the "sample" for the insemination. They basically spin all of the really good quality stuff to the top, eliminate the toxins and other materials that can inhibit conception, and then pump it up on a sugar substance like Red Bull to give it some extra pep in it's step. Pretty cool. Pretty amazing.

When we returned to the fertility center, we waited for about ten minutes with a few other couples. We all had the same look on our faces: hopeful anticipation, radiant joy, and an underlying quiver of fear and doubt. When you plunk down between $400 and $500 to do what nature intended for you to do on your own, it messes with your head. This was our first time, and I felt like there was a roller coaster in my stomach. Some of those couples may have been on their second, third, or fourth try. There was a strange sense of silent solidarity in that room. For a moment, I thought my heart would burst from the outpouring of love I felt for those other couples. When the nurse came to bring us back to the room, I had tears in my eyes.

The insemination was very fast. From speculum in to speculum out, it was a matter of about three minutes. I explained my HSG-related trauma to the procedure nurse, and she was very gentle and had no problems reaching my cervix or threading the catheter through. She had us check the labels on the insemination vial about 20 times (wouldn't that be a nightmare if it were the wrong vial!), and then connected it to the catheter, and boom, we were done. She wished us luck, and then I got to lay there for fifteen minutes with my legs up to give the little guys their best chance of saying hello to my egg. All I experienced from the actual procedure was some very mild cramping.

In two weeks, I can do a home pregnancy test, and if it is positive, I will do a blood test. If it is negative, then we move on to another cycle with some fertility drugs, and we do it all again.

I am nervous, hopeful and excited all at once. I am also crazy emotional and hopped up on hormones that make my cry at the drop of a hat. In the middle of the grocery store. About not being able to find the right kind of oranges that are on sale. Sigh.

We don't know what is going to happen, but we will soldier through whatever the result is. If our test is positive, we will tell family and close friends, and wait a few weeks until the ultrasound to establish a heartbeat before telling everyone else. If it is negative, we will need some time to process, regroup and reassess before talking about it. The whole purpose of this blog is to share and connect with others experiencing the same struggles, and I want to be open and vulnerable about everything that I am experiencing. Sometimes it just takes a little time to be able to be open.

Fifteen minutes changed the course of our lives. In two weeks, we will have a similar experience as we find out whether or not we were successful. Just a few moments in the grand expanse of time.

So we wait out those two weeks, and we pray, and we hope and we dream, for ourselves and for everyone else who is trying to have their own little angel.