Friday the stick gave me a smiley face, so I called the doctor’s office to schedule my first intrauterine insemination for later that same afternoon. I spent most of the day excited……and then. Oh, there’s always a “then.” As I’m driving to the hospital (their office is in the basement of a local hospital), I suddenly burst into tears. No warning, no discernible reason. Just tears. Now, I’m normally a very logical person. For me to just cry without warning, one of two things must happen: 1) I have to be hormonal. Think PMS. 2) I have to be extremely stressed in some way. Hmmm, I think option #2 about sums things up. I pull into the parking lot and just sit for a minute. The tears dry, and I pulled myself together – or so I thought. I went into the hospital where I met Hubby, and we headed into the office. The office was booming, and the doctor was insanely busy with patients in the office and the ER. Our appointment was at 4:15; we didn’t get called until 5:15. As soon as we went back into the exam room, I lost it again. The room just seemed so cold and empty. The bathroom was still institutional. So I did what any sane woman would do……I panicked. And that was apparently too much for the hubby. So, again, we did what any normal couple would do……we fought. Yep, we fought when we were supposed to be obtaining a sperm sample. See that? Still seems cold and clinical. He said that he had been ok with the idea of artificial insemination up until the point I started crying. Then he said that babies were meant to be made in the back seat of a Buick (his attempt at humor), not in a cold doctor’s office. So there we stood, me with tears on my face and the hubby holding an empty specimen cup. He turned around, went into the bathroom, came out several minutes later, handed me the cup, and then he left. Yep, he LEFT me by myself……to face whatever came next BY MYSELF. To say I was a mess would be an understatement.
When I was finally called back the second time (an hour later…yeah, I was waiting, ALONE, for an hour), I was preoccupied enough to not feel much. The procedure didn’t really hurt. It felt like very mild cramps. I made another appointment for the next morning and then – while I stayed on my back for at least fifteen minutes – called the only person I knew that might understand how I was feeling. (Thanks, Tea!) Another bout of tears later and I was on my way home. I went to bed that night and tossed and turned all night. When I did sleep, all I had were nightmares. I was NOT looking forward to the next morning’s appointment.
The next morning I got up before the alarm and busied myself around the house until Hubby surfaced. When he did, I cornered him and asked what we were going to do to make Saturday better than the previous night. We came up with some strategies, and off we went – this time together. This time, the room seemed less threatening. This time, we took care of things together. And this time, he stayed the entire time. I was extremely glad of that when she started…..because this time, it HURT. A LOT. She said that the day before she hadn’t had to reposition my cervix, but she did Saturday morning. Have you ever had someone tug on your cervix? It’s not fun, believe me. Believe it or not, I was still sore this morning. Anyways, the prince I married was back and remained throughout the entire day, thankfully. Now all I have to do is wait two weeks to find out if it worked. These are going to be the longest two weeks ever. And if it doesn’t work this time, the cycle is going to repeat. And I have a sneaking suspicion that each time the waiting is going to be even longer.
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