My ovaries are badass

Casualties: 0

Husband: relatively intact

Yesterday morning, Chris and I trekked to the clinic before work for our CD 10 ultrasound.  I was a little anxious because I was so bloated and didn’t want the ultrasound tech grinding down on my abdomen to move around my giant-ass ovaries.  Luckily, she was great and it was over really quick.  I have two follicles, I can’t remember which side, that are 16 and 18 mm.  She said they looked “wonderful.”  I bet she wanted to say badass.

At first, the nurse told me to trigger the next evening (which would be tonight) but then I brought up the fact that I had ovulated early and then she decided to have me trigger that night instead, with IUIs scheduled Saturday and Sunday.

I got a call when I was at work, and I guess Dr. K wants to give my beefy follicles another day to grow a bit more, so plans changed to IUIs for Sunday and Monday.

I had a rough day at work yesterday and was feeling really overwhelmed when I got home.  I was meeting a friend at Olive Garden to feed my feelings, and Chris told me he thought he was sick.  Fever, body aches, chills.  Meaning, white blood cells in his semen, meaning: would we have to cancel the IUIs?

Did I hug him?  Did I stay home and make him chicken noodle soup?  No.  I was a royal bitch and told him I couldn’t deal with this now.  I fought back tears and told him I absolutely could not handle a second canceled IUI and left to go to the restaurant.  Am a total scumbag.  Maybe it was the Clomid emotions.  Maybe I am just a bitter mean person.  I probably could have kicked him in the balls and it would have hurt less.

When I returned home, I went to him and hugged him and started crying.  I apologized over and over like a total douche-bag.  He is wonderful.  I mean, a total stand-up guy.  He always forgives me.

This morning I called and canceled today’s IUI and scheduled one for Monday.  I will do my trigger shot this evening, hopefully from the comforts of my own bathroom, and tomorrow is our first of two IUIs at 11:00.  Monday’s is at 10:15.  Luckily the two of us have off from work.  I asked about Chris being sick and the women at the andrology lab said that it takes several months for sperm to mature, so him being sick now wouldn’t really show up in this sample.  What a relief.  It also makes me look like more of an asshole that I got so upset over his being sick.  Man, what are some other names I can call myself?

I am cautiously optimistic.  I am still worried that something will come up that will make the IUIs impossible.  I just want something to go right for us.  I’m also a total wuss.  I spend all this time publicly bitching about my uterus, but when the time comes to buck up, I get nervous.  I don’t like things up in my lady parts.  (Stop giggling.  You know what I mean.)  I can barely handle my yearly pap, and now I am going to voluntarily let someone stick a catheter up into my uterus.  And I am going to pay them to do it.  And I am a little excited about it.  Am sick.

I should bring some candles.  Maybe some Barry White.  Maybe I’ll picture Channing Tatum while I am on my back tomorrow.

I hope they let Chris hold my hand during the deed.  I feel I should have some sort of contact with my husband while I am having his sperm deposited in me.  Otherwise, I would just feel cheap.