My temp dipped a bit on Friday morning (PHEW!). Hopefully that means that we didn't miss the O, and that Friday would be the day for the egg to come on out to play.
S gave his "deposit" at 7:30 AM. He said that he was the first person to arrive to the RE's office; when he got there, the lights were still dim and the door was locked. Luckily, at least one person was there to let him in. (And apparently, the other staff arrived very soon thereafter.) He's had a pretty bad cold for the last few days, but he felt like it was a pretty good sample.
I fidgeted my way through two back-to-back (work) conferences until about 9:45, at which point I high-tailed my way over to the RE's office. Luckily, it's only about 5 minutes from the Cancer Center, so I was right on time. One of the two other people in the waiting room was an early-30's-age good-looking guy, sitting by himself. I would bet that he was there to give a "deposit," too. In a weird way, sometimes seeing other really normal looking people in the waiting room makes me feel like S and I are a little more normal, too. (That's also why I like participating in this blog community.)
Pretty soon I got called back into the exam room. I undressed from the waist down, wrapped the white paper drape around my waist, and flipped the light to indicate that I was ready. While waiting, I started reading an article I had brought (about ovarian cancer) to prepare for my first day in Gynecology/Oncology clinic.
Dr W (the young woman just out of training) came in. The first words out of her mouth were "11.4 million." I guess she knew I was going to ask about the total motile sperm count. Apparently, they want "more than 10 million", so I'm pretty satisfied with that number. Of course, even more would be better, but I won't complain. We had 11 million with IUI#1 last month, so it's very similar.
I then said, "Hey, you did your residency at [the university where I work], right?"
"I did my fellowship there."
Ooops! As a fellow myself, I am acutely aware of these kinds of hierarchies. Residents are ranked below fellows, but for some reason I had forgotten that RE's are fellowship trained. Well, at least that makes me feel that Dr W and I are closer to the same age. I had been thinking that if she were just out of residency, I might be up to 2 years ahead of her!
Anyway, I then chatted with her for a minute about the fact that I was starting a Gynecology/Oncology rotation. She of course knows Dr P, the attending physician who I will be working with this month. Anyway, it was nice to connect with her for a moment.
Dr A (one of the older, more experienced REs) had problems getting the catheter through my cervix with IUI #1, and I was told to "come with a full bladder next time". Well, my bladder was moderately full yesterday, but not to the ready-to-burst stage, as I don't want to pee on anyone! Despite this, Dr W had the same trouble with my cervix. At first, she thought that maybe my uterus was retroverted ("tipped"), but she looked at my records and checked a quick ultrasound and confirmed that it is anteverted (which is "normal").
She used some sort of thin metal instrument (called a "sound") first and got that in through the cervix successfully. I had a couple of sharp pains deep inside when she went through the internal cervical os. I wasn't clear on whether she then removed the sound, or whether she then tried to insert the catheter alongside it, but the catheter itself is floppy and didn't want to go through. (I know this all sounds horrible, but do not be alarmed; it is MUCH easier than an HSG.) I asked whether this tight internal cervical os could be contributing to difficulties with TTC, and she said, "No, as long as blood is getting out every month, sperm can get in." Well, that makes sense to me; sperm are a lot tinier than a catheter.
She then said that she thought it would be helpful to use a different catheter with less floppy tubing. My anxiety welled up again: "You won't lose too many sperm by transfering it, will you?" She said ,"no," and I decided just to accept that answer as truth and not worry about it anymore.
She and the nurse came back after a few minutes, and with a bit more poking, prodding, and sharp pains, the sample was in! She kinda apologized at the end: "I made you bleed a little, so you'll have a little spotting today." I then rested for the mandated 10 minutes (again reading about ovarian cancer), popped a doxycycline, and left the room.
They scheduled a beta-HCG for Sunday, 12/20/08 at 8:45 AM. I again told them that I'm not coming if I have a negative HPT. And again, they didn't mention anything about vaginal progesterone, so I asked. The nurse said that yes, I need to take it again. Ugh... I'm not looking forward to that irritation again. I guess I will take it starting tomorrow AM. It should possibly start tonight, but I want to see what my temp does in the morning. Today, by the way, it bumped up a bit but is still just below the coverline. However, my cervical fluid has changed from eggwhite Thursday to creamy yesterday to sticky today, so I have a feeling that the O did happen. Fingers crossed, knocking on wood, and saying prayers that this works.
After the visit, I spent the afternoon working with Dr P in Gynecology/Oncology clinic. It was weird to go from lying in stirrups myself in the AM, to standing at the other end of the exam table in the same afternoon. I saw one patient with endometrial cancer, several with ovarian cancer, and one with immature teratoma. It was an interesting day, and took my mind off of "me me me."
After work, S & I had a "date night". After getting two hallway tables at Bomb.ay Company (which is going out of business) and a few picture frames at A.aron Br.others, followed by a hurried bite to eat, we saw an excellent movie. It was "The Ki.te Run.ner," and I highly recommend it. I want to read the book now. I'll probably wait a few months to a year, though, just to give some time for the story to fade from my mind.
Now I'm at my (admittedly low-key) moonlighting job, earning $$ to pay for all of this! (All of our tests and procedures and meds for IF are 100% out of pocket for us, unfortunately).