Luteal Phase
Apparently that’s where I’m at the moment, where I await to see if insert many medical expressions here , result in the egg being jumped upon by smoe danish swimmers. Friday went really well. I did everything in my power to keep myself prepared , from reading up and understanding what was going on to watching the Pussycat dolls videos on youtube. I was still so nervous. More so about the procedure then the end result. However having gone to my GP before and doing a dummy run so to speak did calm me somewhat. It didn’t stop me from needing to go to the toliet every few minutes though. Mammy2 got off work on time and did everything in her power to keep the stress levels down.
From not driving through an orange light and chattering away about other stuff to keep my mind preoccupied. We arrived bang on time. Sitting the waiting room, Mammy2 found it quite funny that on top of all that dreadful magazines they keep in waiting rooms, there was a book on rugby called Rucking and Rolling, 60 years of rugby. Sure enough inside there were enough pictures to keep me entertained until the doctor called me.
When the nice doctor called us in, she explained that the counseller who had spoken to us had highlighted I might have some problems. The doctor wanted to go through exactly what was going to happen to me and if at any stage I felt uncomfortable etc, I could request them to stop. They were also searching for a tiny speculum. Its the speculum that causes the discomfort and as I have, as the medical people put it pin-hole cervical os then a smaller one would ease the discomfort. Sounds lovely doesn’t? The doctor also told us some information about the doctor who was going to be doing the procedure and how he’s an expert in his field. Thankfully I was too busy trying to get over the mention of a smaller speculum and the slight bit of relief to notice it. I don’t really have issues with male doctors usually but in matters of a womanly nature I usually prefer the females. Bit late for that, clothes off, up onto the bed. Mammy2 was great as was the other doctor.
The male doctor turned out to be lovely, he looked like a real dad type person. He explained everything and I felt slightly better. Mammy2 had a tight hold of the hand and was keeping a close eye on me. So I braced myself and was ready, or so I thought until the damn speculum went in. I froze and tensed and it was really uncomfortable. I mean, I was ready to stop. Mammy2 was getting her hand squeezed off her and the Dr J was very nice. I explained I was sore, Mammy2 talked me through the whole breathing through pain thingy that we had practiced. I mean I have a very high pain threshold, but when there’s the feeling of a small vice grips attached to your lower regions all thresholds got out the window. Thankfully both doctors and Mammy2 were very patient and we got through it. According to them , I was great. I’m not sure what horror stories the counseller had told them about the potential disaster this IUI was going to be, and perhap I was high from getting through it, but I could swore I saw the other doctor take off her amercian football helmut and padding from her body. Did she think I was going to throw her against the wall?!
I was so delighted with myself. I had built this procedure up so much in my head that I had gotten to the stage where I had convinced myself I wasn’t going to be able to have kids because of my silly body. It was such a relief. Now its all down to the body. We’re both trying not to get our hopes up. I have written it off and am talking about how we work it the next time, do we take a month off or go straight into another treatement. Anything to take my mind off it as I don’t know how I am going to feel. There is always the chance it was a success. To conceieve on Valentine’s weekend in the middle of lots of rugby would be a great story. We shall see. The main thing is I got through it and lived to tell the tale. Without ending up walking like John Wayne. I just hope the danish swimmers are able for the divas that are my ovaries.
