Our Infertility Story: IUI Round One

“The natural flights of the human mind are not from pleasure to pleasure, but from hope to hope.”
~Samuel Johnson


Our Infertility Story: The Beginning

Our Infertility Story: The Specialist 

Our Infertility Story: My HSG

Our Infertility Story: The Eye of the Storm

Our Infertility Story: Checking His Swimmers

It’s amazing how quickly we let things that we truly care about fall apart.

November went by in a total blur for me. It feels like just yesterday was Halloween and I was sitting on my couch writing a post to welcome the month. I had a busy November…

I wrote a book.

Sort of. Anything I could write in a month was never going to be amazing, or complete, but I wrote a book.

My job transferred both me and my husband, which was stressful.

…And I’m about to have surgery.

I think I knew as soon as I decided to write a book in a month that November was going to be a bust for this blog. Now that my novel craziness is over, I’m itching to finish telling our story.

When we left off, we had found out that my husband has, to quote the doctor, “Michael Phelps sperm.” So, there’s that.

It was hard for me to hear that my husband is perfect; to have it reinforced that I am the problem.

I’m the infertile one…

Next up, we had an appointment with the doctor to go over those results, and discuss our options going forward.

He drew me this handy little diagram, to give me an idea of what happened next.


I was actually in cycle day 3 when we had our meeting, so we didn’t have to wait for my next cycle to begin. We jumped right in and I started with Clomid on day 5.

Let me just tell you that the Clomid was the worst. Just a few days in and I was already super aware of my ovaries…especially my left ovary. Walking hurt, and with every step I felt like I was being stabbed.

Sex was the worst part. Even though we were doing IUI (Intrauterine Insemination), we were still required to do a LOT of our own baby making, and it was incredibly painful. I tried my best to hide the discomfort, because my husband loves me so much and it broke his heart to see me hurting. But we had to do it.

When I went in for my ultrasound, I was in so much pain. I had already developed a cyst on my left side (a common side effect from the meds) and since the ultrasound was transvaginal, I was all the more uncomfortable.

I was told that there was at least one strong healthy follicle, and was instructed to take my Ovidrel shot that Sunday (2 days later) at 9:30 pm. My insemination was scheduled for Tuesday at 9:30am.

I had to give myself the shot at work, and I was nervous, but ended up figuring it out with the help of a co-worker.

The day of the IUI, I was nervous, but hopeful.

We already knew that the chances of success on round one were low.

I was told to get undressed and lay down. When the doctor came in, he gave me the good news that my husband had produced amazingly strong sperm once again. Good news.

Because of my stenotic cervix, the procedure was actually really painful. I laid down for ten minutes following the IUI, and was in agony the whole time. The cramping didn’t really stop until long after I went home, and when I went to work that afternoon I was exhausted from the pain.

Because the Ovidrel puts HCG in your system (and made me an emotional crying mess, I may add) I knew that I couldn’t take a pregnancy test for a while. I finally caved at around 8 DPO (days past ovulation), mostly because I needed to see if the Ovidrel was out of my system, so I could trust a positive result if we received one. The test was negative, so I knew the pregnancy hormone was out of my body, but I also knew I wasn’t pregnant…yet.

I tested almost daily after that, and each new negative put me in a deeper despair. I had allowed myself to believe that it would happen, and I was devastated once again.

When the day of my expected period came, and I had nothing going on down there, I perked up…but was greeted with yet another negative. I held the test up to the light, held it against white paper, did a million crazy things hoping to see a positive, no matter how faint.

This went on for four days…until Aunt Flo finally showed herself.

I know now that I was late because of all the medicine, and this helped me to be better prepared for the next cycle. Even so, it broke my heart to have to call the doctor, and let the nurse know that my period had started.



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