The waiting room. Two of the receptionists. Two of the nurses. The doctor. All the same as they were back in August of 2009, which is when we had our very first consultation with the RE. I had been tracking my cycles since May (in a Google Calendar – now they have APPS for this shit. Crazy!) and we tried our first IUI on 8/21, which was unsuccessful, and our second IUI (helloooo RR!) on 9/27. This is all to say that, this process has the potential to move quickly. It also, as our beloved community well knows, has the potential to draw itself the fuck out. Only time will tell, though.
Having the process underway, in the form of appointments and bloodwork, is progress. And man, is it awesome to be on this side of things. I mean, it’s utterly amazing to be the one in the stirrups (well, kind of), but it’s also amazing to be the one who gets to look at the screen and see the grey blobs and bloops of my wife’s insides. I think every time they did any procedure to me, I mentally checked out. There’s something about someone talking to you while they’re all up in your business, wanding about, that makes it hard to hear them and understand what they’re saying. Can I get an Amen? Aaaamen.
The bottom line is that we are moving forward. We are lining up the dominoes to knock them down. It’s an impatient process, but since insurance will take care of diagnostic tests, we get to do all this up-front, not only to have an accurate portrait of my wife’s fertile landscape, but because it’s less out of pocket. Yay for insurance. Of course, once we start trying, they’ll be all like, “I don’t even knowww you.” Right now, though, everything looks normal. Yay normal.
As Tom Petty would say, the waiting IS the hardest part.
This could be the first time Tom Petty and fertility have been in the same blog post together.
Now we get to be all hyper-aware of my wife’s cycle (yay for her!) and doing crazy fertility math (this test on Mondays of cycle day 2-4, this other test on Wednesdays of cycle days 7-11). Cycle day one is flow, not spotting. Duh. Good lord. Oh, and throw in a visit from my wife’s parents (and their RV, giant dog, and three cats) during this time, too. I wonder if her mom will be able to hear her clock actively ticking? As it is, it’s waking me up at night, it’s so loud. TICK TOCK.