Sunday, January 27, 2008

Someone else's hands

Tomorrow is our IUI consultation with our fertility clinic. I'm very nervous and Jason and I are very excited. My nervousness stems from the fact that every time I walk in the door at the practice, I'm given loads of information that takes my tired mind a week (at minumum) to process. The reasoning behind the excitement is a lot easier to pinpoint.

So.... tonight, I'm channeling my nervous energy into something semi-productive. Well, it is productive, but I really should be fixing the button on the slacks I want to wear to work tomorrow. I'm taking the tangible portion of the aforementioned "loads of information" and getting organized. So I sit beside what was an hour ago a mash of patient information packets, consents, clinic policies, lab work results, surgical findings, and parking receipts --- I honestly do feel better. My theory is that if the papers containing all of the overwhelming information are in order in the notebook, the little clouds of knowledge in my mind will somehow file themselves away neatly as well. I know that tomorrow brings with it the hope of a child, but also more information than I could possibly hope to wrap my mind around in the week it usually takes me -- I think I'll set a goal of two weeks for myself on this one -- that is if I've got that kind of time. I'm on CD 24 tomorrow. Clomid will start anyday, and I'm happy that Calee ventured there first. Fear of the unknown sucks.

My surgery was 9 days ago. Because of an iodine allergy, my doctor and Jason and I chose to do a laproscopic hysterscopy to be sure my tubes were open before we spent thousands of dollars on IUI and donor sperm. My iodine allergy, oddly enough, turned out to be a godsend. My doctor was able to find what she may have been able to see on a hysterosalpingogram, but would not have been able to correct: uterine polyps, stage I endometriosis, and ovarian cysts. All of which she was able to take care of while I was in the diagnostic surgery. Great news, but all shocking for Jason, who (along with me) believes that the only news he would receive was that my tubes were open. They are, by the way. So between God and Dr. Mitchell-Leef, I hope they can get me pregnant.

As I await tomorrow's exacting instructions from Dr. M-L and the clinic, I'm just glad it's in someone else's hands. Two pretty damn smart someone elses at that.

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