Well it has been a whirlwind few days around here. I called on the first day of my cycle this time to let them know we were going to go ahead and do the unmedicated IUI and then I proceeded to wait – and wait- now since I’m on this special weekend program at work our schedules are a bit opposite from everyone else’s. If I had a positive OPK on a Friday or Saturday we would essentially need to call off the whole thing because I’m scheduled to work (at least in December) every Saturday and Sunday from 7am-730pm and the clinic is only open starting at 7am. I’m sure other people are like “Sweet! A weekend IUI! no one has to call off work” Hubbin is a teacher and has a slew of sick days but I’m only allowed 2 in a rolling 12 months or I get kicked off steady weekends. Which, this Spring semester when I’ve got 200 clinical hours to complete during the semester on M-F shifts only could mean the difference between me graduating in May or not.
ANYWAY, Back to the story…
So I could tell it was going to be close, Monday was going to be CD 14 and I usually don’t ovulate before then (I tend more towards CD 16) but just two months ago I got a positive stick on day 12 so I was nervous. Because of course I was. Because my neck and shoulder muscles are so permanently tight these days I could probably bench press 250lbs with just my shoulders. So my stick was negative on Friday and I was so excited, “SWEET just one more negative and I’m golden!” And then if I’m CD 16 next cycle too, it will be after the new years and we can squeeze in one more IUI before my spring semester starts (and if that one worked I’d be due on Hubbin’s birthday) – and it’s anxiety ridden thought trains like this that have been fueling my migraines and tension headaches for weeks now I’m sure!
But then something terrible happened, I tested saturday morning bright and early before work and I was greeted by a clear blue easy smiley face. Which should have been a frowny face, or at least an evil face. Because that meant I’d be working a 12 hour shift on Sunday starting at 7am rather than getting an IUI. And it meant next cycle would be during the week between Christmas and New Years when we’ll be away, and then the next cycle wouldn’t be until after my spring semester started and I’m back to working 5+days each week. I was dismal. Grouchy. Depressed. And off to work. Where my one friend was all excited because her aflac has kicked in and they can start trying for their second baby. And I was just dark clouds in my head. I sent Hubbin pouty text messages.
But then something amazing happened. My one friend, the same one who had added to my internal rain storm, said aloud at approximately 4pm “*sigh* I wish I was working at 7am tomorrow instead of 11am”…. my little hamster began turning and I looked at her *blink blink blink* and she said “Do you think if I call so-and-so at home they’d trade with me” She was scheduled to be working til 1130pm tonight and actually WANTED to come back for the 7am shift? This couldn’t be happening?! I might have jumped on her and said “I’LL TRADE WITH YOU!” “seriously?” “seriously” “wow, you even seem a little excited about this” ahem. Just a little. But then of course the out of control worry train started up again “What if Hubbin doesn’t want to now that I said we had to call it off? I was supposed to call by 7am to schedule the IUI for tomorrow, what if they can’t squeeze us in, what if whoever does the transfers doesn’t even come into work if there’s none on the schedule?” *panic panic panic* So I called Hubbin, he was totally on board, I fretted to him on the phone (he’s never particularly receptive to fretting so doesn’t really work as an outlet or a reassurance) I then called the clinic – who were of course no longer in the office.
We decided on a plan of action: I would get up at 640am and call the clinic at 645am when they start taking calls to see if they could squeeze us in. If they could I would then roll Hubbin out of bed and send him off to – well, you know – then, as long as my appointment would be by 10am I could still be to work at 11am, it’s really probably <10 miles from work and should take <30min to drive.
I then tried to remain calm. And not get my hopes up. I drove the whole way home after work begging aloud in the car “pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease” the whole way. Then I tried to sleep. Somewhat less than successful. And I woke up approximately 35times during the night.
I called at 645am and at the answering person, who after I pleaded my case, was like “hmmm, I don’t know if they can even do that, let me connect you to scheduling” who, after I pleaded my case again said “sure, that shouldn’t be a problem.” She said “We’ll have a room for him at 8am, and then you can come at 10am” I said “and how long does this take?” and she said “well the IUI will be 5 minutes, then you’ll need to lay down for 10-15” and I said “So I should be done by 1030?” and she said “oh definitely”
I woke Hubbin and told him and he got up at 720 – then I got up (again) at 9 and was at the clinic at about 955.
Then I waited, and waited, and waited. And when I was still in the waiting room at 1015am I was internally screaming profanities and flipping out about whether I could even stay or not! At 1030 my level of panic was FULL BLOWN and I was *thisclose* to walking up to the desk and being like “seriously, I need to be at work in 30 minutes, do you know what time this will actually happen because I cannot stay much longer”
They called me back at 1035. Had me verify everything.
Post wash counts = 3.1 million, 89% motility
Which seems low to me but she said was fine. (I’m pretty sure his original SA had like 116mil so I was hoping for something similar – Hubbin assures me the rest were “just sleeping” since I got them up so early) It was done by someone who was not the doctor. Hubbin is referring to it as our first 3 *some. And was pretty quick, but was not done until 1045 at which point there was no possibility of me being on time for work, and it’s probably been more than a year since I was late so I tried to just relax about it. (relaxing = not my strong suit). It was crampy – but when they do stuff like this it’s a different kind of crampy, in a way that makes it feel like the bottom is falling out from under you, which is I supposed a vagal reaction that is not very pleasant. Anyway. Done. They’re in there. All 3.1 million chances for the month. I was glad I had the foresight to put a pad on before I left because I did have some cramping and spotting the rest of the day, which may or may not have been on the waiver I sign but since I was so preoccupied about being late I didn’t take the time to study it.
I only laid down for 10 minutes, which I would have preferred to wait longer but it was 1055…. And I was due at work at 11. GAHHH. I was signing out of the office and she was like “oh! wait! We need to draw some bloodwork to check your virals” I said “Seriously? I have to be at work at 11, I REALLY can’t”. – –and You could have been doing that while I was waiting in your waiting room for 45 minutes- So they said they’d get me at a follow up.
I called the charge nurse on my way to work and was like “well, It appears certain now that I will be late, but fear not, I am on my way, I’m on the highway” — of course there was a stupid home football game so the drive that should have taken 15 minutes took 30 and I got to work at 1130.
Braindrops 