So hopefully, Miguel’s sperm are surrounding an egg and forcing it into surrender right now.
It was about as much fun as you would expect anything that involves use of a speculum to be…note to self: pee first next time.
For starters, I had to go to the reproductive lab next door and properly identify myself as the rightful recipient of Miguel’s newly washed sperm. They required me to show my driver’s license and then review the names on the label to ensure I was getting the right stuff. The photo ID part cracked me up; do they often have sperm bandits in there trying to make off with other people’s spunk? Disgruntled ex-girlfriends, perhaps?
With my not all obvious paper bag, I trotted next door for the main event. The doctor came in, a new one I haven’t met, identifying herself as one of the Fellows.
I assumed the position and she started rooting around with her speculum, which was not at all comfortable, and then asked for a longer speculum because my cervix “was hiding.” As I have a tipped uterus (me and 10% of the population), my cervix is also sharply angled. She was having trouble isolating it, a factor important apparently in giving me the best possible IUI. I was like, well shit, root around as much as you want down there then, lets get the best possible IUI here.
At one point the nurse asked “how you doing?” and before I could say anything the doctor chirped “Doing fine!” Hello, I think she was talking to ME, the one in the stirrups. I almost chimed in “yeah, me too,” but you don’t snark at people with metal objects in your girly parts.
And then it was over. At one point she said you must be experiencing some cramping right now, I want you to let me know when it’s over. I was like, it’s all kind of uncomfortable, but I’m not really feeling any specific cramps or anything. So then she must have set the sperms free. She told me I could lie down, “take some time for me” for the next 20 minutes and then I was free to go, just leave the door open on the way out. It was all rather anticlimactic and there were no follow up instructions, i.e. about when I would know if I was pregnant. She just promised me that there would be some spotting from all the poking she had done and left me a maxi.
I wandered up to the desk as I was leaving, so I could ask what the next step was; do I wait until I miss my period? Do I take a home test? Do they monitor me with blood work, what? The nurse asked if I was all set and if I had my prescriptions and I was clearly “prescriptions? What prescriptions?”
It was pretty obvious that no one had explained anything to me so she pulled me into a conference room and sat down with me to give me my education session. YES, thank you, FINALLY. Sherry was extremely nice and reassuring in the face of my on the verge of losing it emotionalism. Apparently, starting tomorrow morning I will be using a vag suppository twice a day to keep my estrogen levels up and ensure that a fertilization, if it happened today, takes and is kept. At two weeks from today, I take a regular old home test and call them. If it’s positive, they will bring me in right away to do blood work and hormone levels, and based on that maybe up the meds. If it’s negative, I stop the meds, which should start my period, and we start this whole happy mess again.
I went home afterwards and lay down for a couple hours. The amount of money we’re spending on this, I feel like we should give gravity the best possible chance. Now I’m back at work, and it’s time for me to think about something else for the next couple of weeks.
Except Miguel called and was all, what’d they say about my spunk? Well, nothing actually. He wants to know if it was a “good one” for some extra “piece of mind.” So now I’m going to have to go call them and see if they even do any type of semen analysis prior to washing and prepping the sample.