Coping.... or lack there of

Thursday and Friday were very exciting days. After a small fiasco between Jason and I (we couldn't decide who should give the injection and changed our minds a couple of times because we were both so chicken), we went to our appointment for our first IUI on Friday afternoon. I was so nervous that I literally thought I was going to puke in the biohazard bin. I think I've been reading too much about how it hurt and oh the terrible cramping and such, but it wasn't bad at all. The worst part was the waiting. We've never had to wait a minute past our appointment time, and even when we arrive early, they will more often than not see us. But not on the most nerve racking day since we've been going there. So basically, I had plenty of time to get my nerves worked up. Dr. M-L did the procedure, which I was very thankful for since I didn't know the other doctors and it was my first IUI.

On Saturday, we weren't seen until almost an hour after our appointment time. The clinic had lost the consent to thaw forms so I had a to sign a new one 15 minutes before the IUI was supposed to be done, which meant they hadn't even starting thawing it, much less the wash and prep. But for a moment when the nurse came out, I thought there was a problem with the specimen and we would be losing out on today somehow. And to add to that, I knew that the doctor on call for the weekend was a man, so I was extremely nervous about that. I've never had a male gyno, so I wasn't too keen on having one snoop around down there now. Thankfully, he was so nice, that I really forgot about it. I had purposely worn the most ridiculous socks that I could find in an effort to spark conversation and make the doctor laugh to make me less nervous. It worked. He started on my socks, the pronunciation of my last name, introduced himself by "Andy Toledo" instead of Dr. Toledo -- essentially had far better bedside manner than Dr. Mitchell-Leef. After it was over and I confessed how nervous I had been about it and told him that he had hurt far less than the IUI yesterday, he said "that's because you have to have a man do it." Something about being much less rough. Anyhow, he really was so nice and propped my head up so that I would be comfortable for the 20 minute wait and my hips up for good measure with the IUI. Part of me wishes he would do the procedure every time, but I'm not super thrilled about the prospect of switching doctors; and I'm hopeful that I won't have to do an IUI again for a few years.

Trying to cope is the hardest thing in the world. I have been so hopeful and excited since CD 1 this month. I guess I was always looking forward to the next task, monitoring, appointment, or medication. But now, there's really just waiting.... for two weeks. And somewhere in the last two days, I've lost some of that hopefulness. I guess it's hard to imagine that the IUI could result in something so incredible that could be going on my body right now. I find myself counting the hours since my last insemination, wondering if the sperm are still swimming around, trying to find my egg, if my egg is where it should be, etc. Friday night and last night I even tried to lay mostly on my left side during sleep so that gravity might help the sperm towards the more active of my ovaries. Kind of silly, I know. I'm nauseated as hell thinking about everything, wishing I could be as excited as I was before. This is going to be a very long two weeks. I think there's been more stress in the last few days than there was even when we found out the news. Maybe I'm just blowing it all out of proportion, but I find myself wanting to break down every 2 hours. So right now, I am just trying to cope.