My Husband Wants A Plaque

Today was the IUI. Have I mentioned how much my husband hates doing his . . . ahem. . . thing at the clinic? Do any of our husbands enjoy this? I had been told by my doctor's nurse that he could do the sample at home and then we could bring it in. But when I was there on Friday for the follicle check, the doctor said that it reduces the effectiveness of the IUI by half. That settled that.

You know, I am not sure what is really so bad for guys in that whole set up. When else do they have us begging to take matters into their own hands, watch porn, and THEN get congratulated for the results? I do understand the embarrassment factor. Our clinic was pretty crowded today and there was a lineup of equally uncomfortable looking men waiting with their bags and plastic cups. But when I think of the number of people that have seen me in stirrups, or poked a condom encased dildo probe up my good girl, well. . . embarrassment has become a relative term.

After the sample production, we had almost two hours to kill and went and had breakfast. Then, it was back to the clinic, where we ended up waiting for quite awhile. It was so busy in there that they ran out of chairs in the waiting room. I j0ked with one of the other ladies-in-waiting that there must be a full moon or something. I just hope it's catching, because two of the women were there for their post-IVF betas and both ended up being pregnant. I'll admit that I was more than just a little jealous.

After waiting an hour past our appointment time, we were finally ushered back to the room. I took off my pants, put on the red socks, and pulled out a little something extra - my visualization item. This was my therapist's idea. She suggested positive imaging as a way for me to feel more in control of the various elements of fertility treatments. So, I bought a cute little Pooh bear hat and try to visualize taking our baby home from the hospital wearing it. I think the idea is a little cheesy, but then again, I AM wearing red socks and no pants at this point, so what the heck?!

Finally, the doctor came in and confirmed our identity. While waiting, my husband and I had talked about the odds of our sample being mixed up, but they made a pretty big point of checking and then double checking that we were the right people for the right loaded turkey baster. The doctor also told us our count - after wash, he had 25.5 million and 80% doing their thang as far as swimming in the right direction - which I guess was pretty impressive, because she high-fived my husband. He was also pretty impressed with his count, after she said that the minimum count for an effective IUI is 5 million and 18 million is the average. He asked about having a plaque put up in his honor. I am not sure if he was joking.

It all seemed pretty surreal after that. I got into the stirrups and we joked about my lucky socks. I felt a slight pressure, less than what I even feel during a pap smear. It took less than a minute for the actual insemination. Then the doctor pretended to sprinkle baby dust on my abdomen, elevated my hips, and told me to stay put for fifteen minutes. Such a potentially momentous thing, and like fertility treatments tend to do, it made it all clinical. I was suddenly very glad for my Pooh Bear hat. It added some feeling of sentiment back into it.

After that, we went grocery shopping and I cleaned the house this afternoon. We are supposed to "do the deed" tonight so that if we are successful, we will never know if it was the IUI or us. I don't really care, I just hope that this is it.