Where do I begin? I have put off writing this post because I honestly didn’t know where to start. How do I tell everyone that has been supporting us and praying for us that it didn’t work? Our first IUI failed. It was a bust. But then I realized that Allen and I didn’t start this blog to cater to any sort of audience. We started writing about our infertility journey as a way to process and mourn. We use it as a form of therapy. So now I’m going to write about it.
The IUI itself was quick and painless. It took a total of 30 seconds… If that. From the time they sucked the donor sperm out of the vial to the moment they injected it through a catheter into my uterus… 30 seconds. I have said this before and I will say this again. I think science and medicine is magical. Anyways, the time leading up to the IUI was straight up misery. The drugs I was on made me so sick and so miserable. I’m not going to waste my energy writing about every single side effect of the meds because, well, who cares? Not me. All the misery in this infertility world will be worth it once we have our child. I will say though that the most difficult side effect to handle was the nausea. It got so bad, I had to keep a pack of Altoids in my dance bag so that I could get back to class quickly without the kids knowing I had just thrown up a year’s worth of acidic nothingness. Yup.
Shout out to our receptionist and my Saturday morning assistant for being awesome and super helpful on my worst day. You both rock.
My IUI was done on a Monday morning at 8:13. I wore bright and happy colors to keep the energy in the room positive. We had “family energy” in the room because I wore a shirt that was a gift from one of my older (and beautiful and kind and generous) cousins. The necklace I wore was a gift from another family member. The stones are labradorite and ruby and somehow have to do with “healing energy” and/or fertility. I have it written down somewhere but I can’t remember why. Allen was next to me holding my hand and being wonderful. Welcome to my hippie family. I love them dearly.
That evening the intense pain started. It was so bad that I could barely sit up straight. I got very scared and called my doctor. He told me that it was nothing to be worried about. He mentioned that because my endometriosis is so bad that my body is not going to react calmly to all of these hormones and stuff being pumped through me.
So then the two week wait began.
We tried to fill our time with as many activities as possible. We tried to keep busy. But no matter how busy you are… It doesn’t make the wait any better!
Around 9 days past ovulation I spotted a small amount. At first I was scared but then I found out that implantation bleeding can happen around 6-12 days past ovulation. Sweet! Side note – Don’t google image search implantation bleeding. DON’T.
A few days later I started spotting again. Not sweet. I knew my period was coming. I went in on Tuesday to get a blood test to confirm and sure enough… Not pregnant. Hello, misery.
I had about two hours to process (aka cry hysterically/be a hot mess/etc) before I had to shape up and get in to work. Things are moving pretty fast now. Two days later I started a new round of medication and we try again next week.
I have ALWAYS considered myself to be a pretty strong woman. Always. But I have never felt more weak than the moment the nurse called to tell me that I was not pregnant. Weak. Weak. Weak.
Now here we are. Trying again. How am I doing it? Not a clue. Somehow you just keep going.