Back in the Stirrups Again

So it's been awhile since I have posted anything to this blog, but this morning someone out there in cyberspace (and no, it was not my mother) contacted me to say that she was in the middle of reading my entries.  In her message to me, she told me that my blog was a blessing to her, as she was in the midst of her own tough pregnancy prognosis and feeling very alone. I assumed that my "page view count" was inflated due to the fact that I'm constantly clicking on it and waiting for someone to spam me with pop-ups directing me "how to date hot, xxx, local singles in your area"...but evidently my ramblings have resonated with someone. I started writing this blog so that I didn't feel isolated in my grief and fear, and I am so glad that putting my words and stories out there has helped someone else.  It is estimated that about 6 million women in the United States deal with infertility, and that 1/33 babies are born with some type of birth defect.  This blog is for each one of you.

Moving away from the sentimental and on to the speculum...let's talk about my vagina.  (How's that for a transition? Subtlety has always been one of my strongest qualities.) Having recently come to terms with the fact that the $16,000 we plunked down has gotten us absolutely nowhere in the genetic testing realm, my husband and I have decided to try and conceive again...the old fashioned way! Of course, in my case, old fashioned includes: a bunch of fertility drugs, freakishly unpredictable rage, a dildo-cam transvaginal ultrasounds, sex scheduled down to the hour, and a teeny catheter filled with the highest quality semen that my dear husband can produce with 30 minutes notice. Cue the romantic music and soft-core porn lighting--it's time to make a baby!

9 days ago, I had my second IUI.  The first one ended up getting me preggo, so I have to admit that I have high hopes for this one.  I know there is only about a 20% chance of it working, but shitty odds are kind of my specialty, so I'm keeping my head up.  I went in to the procedure with the intent of being super calm and zen-like about the whole thing, even bringing in a playlist made of amazing songs by Explosions in the Sky (they did a ton of the music for THE BEST SHOW EVER IN LIFE, Friday Night Lights.  Also any band with "explosions" in their name seemed appropriate since I was being shot full of sperm.)

The procedure was super easy and only took like 3 minutes. My doctor kept apologizing profusely for any cramping or pain I was experiencing, but after the horrors of a laminaria insertion while 21 weeks pregnant, I could get a flexible catheter threaded up my cervix hole all day, every day. #YOLO (just kidding, I don't even really know what that means, or why I typed it, but I am feeling a little punchy.)  After she was done, I lay on the table with my hips up and listened to my calming songs.  Then I got dressed, picked up a giant Dunkin Donuts iced coffee, and went home.  I took a pregnancy test twenty minutes later.

Just kidding.  But I really want to take one now.