I think I’m actually getting good at this. If Trying To Get Pregnant is an acquired skill, then I’ve acquired it… the Trying part, that is.
This month, I’m not even thinking about it, really. I have an odd sort of confidence that if it doesn’t work this time, it will next time.
Getting that HSG test helped – seeing through the x-ray that the equipment is in there and that it has all the right connections and whatnot… even if it is a little squished to one side, I’m not complaining.
Oh, and I made the brilliant adjustment (why didn’t I think of this sooner?!) of picking up the sperm on the other side of the bridge a few weeks before my insemination, so I wouldn’t have to do it all in one week, racing around between an ultrasound and an IUI appointment. Lots of altered variables to shake it up this time around. My tubes have been roto-rootered. My letrozole dose is a little higher this month, and I have a new donor, whose attributes I’m not even stressing over. Frankly, I can’t remember what they are. The girl at the sperm bank thinks I’d like him and the guys at the lab where he donates think he’s the bomb. Good enough.
Oh, so the other change was an HCG shot – which means a tummy injection the night before the IUI to help with timing ovulation. I received the package via FedEx on Halloween morning, a huge box containing a wad of alcohol wipes, a boxy sharps container, and a silver bag with two ice packs containing my small syringe. Refrigerate immediately. So I did, and didn’t worry about it too much. I thought. Meanwhile, I had friends lined up to help me in case it got scary.
The night of the injection I was watching TV with D, paused the disk at 10pm and said, it’s time. So I sat on the bed with a bit of tummy pinched and let her prep the needle, then proceeded to melt into a weird infantile regression, laughing while tears streamed down my cheeks, wrestling freakishly with the anticipation. D waited patiently, needle held aloft. I finally let her do it and of course it didn’t hurt. At all. But I had to hide my face behind a pillow and mumble “are you done are you done are you done” until it was over. In my defense, I’m sure something about a needle to the stomach is simply counter-intuitive.
Anyway, there are wonderful brave women all over youtube demonstrating how to do this (without dramatic grinning tears), so if you want a good teacher for your own sub-dermal injection, that’s where they are.
Meanwhile, I won’t know if I’m pregnant or simply having another round of boning up on my Trying skills until next weekend…
Oh, my dear. You need a nurse! STAT!