(Almost) Starting IUI

As I write this, I’ve been fighting a sore throat and an ongoing headache for a week, so bear with me. If my blog starts making less sense the further you read on, well, that’s just not going to happen. 

(My editor’s got my back. 😘)

Ironically, I feel icky as I’m writing about this part of my fertility journey because… well, you’ll see!

In my last post, Jason and I met with our new fertility specialist, who we’re calling Dr. Fertility. At that consultation, we decided we would start the IUI process at the beginning of my next menstrual cycle.

That’s where we left off!

Corona. No Lime. 🍺

Almost a year after getting the first positive test, I got another in January 2022. Only this time, it wasn’t a pregnancy test.

SPOILER ALERT! I got COVID RIGHT before I was supposed to go back in to see Dr. Fertility to start IUI.

Do you see the irony now?

Good news? I didn’t lose my sense of smell or taste. Bad news? I got literally everything else that COVID brought along with it.

Not only was I feeling like a big pile of steaming 💩 (constant headache, fever, chills, etc.), but I started my period the week after, so I was feeling extra shitty (cramps, bloating, bitchy mood, should I go on?).

On top of all that, this meant we had to wait until my NEXT period to start treatments.

So yeah, I was a little salty.

Jason took an at-home COVID test immediately after, and it was also positive. For months after that, we had a chicken or the egg debate because we swore the other brought it home.

I was right, of course. We couldn’t prove it but let’s be real, I’m always right. 😏

I thought we would spend a couple of weeks bonding and watching movies together but I was wrong. This was all going down during that weird time when employers didn’t quite know how to handle the infected.

Jason went back to work five days later (as long as he was symptom-free). I, on the other hand, had to stay cooped up for two whole weeks before returning to work.

Unfortunately for me, he went back to work right around the time I started my period, so my level of “what the actual fuck” was at an all-time high!

Who was gonna baby me and bring me soup in bed now??

Quite frankly, my level of “what the actual fuck” has yet to decrease.

The Process Before the Process

The following month, I anxiously awaited my period, hoping day after day it would just start already.

My periods have always been irregular, so it wasn’t a surprise that I waited over 40 days to start my period again.

You ain’t trippin, you read that correctly.

40. Long. Dreaded. Days.

When Aunt Flo finally made her appearance, I called Dr. Fertility’s office, and they had me come in the next day. They did another vaginal ultrasound (and I’m proud to say I got used to pulling my pants off in that office).

They checked that my ovaries were still looking good and ready for ovulation. I would then take Letrozole for the following five days. This medication is similar to Clomid and would kick start ovulation.

Because this was the first round of treatment, I had to return for ANOTHER appointment right before my ovulation phase (which would prove to be the worst appointment of all).

This time, they had to make sure that my fallopian tubes weren’t blocked and all the “things” could get to all the places with no issues. Dr. Fertility inserted a long balloon through my tubes, inflated it, and injected a liquid that showed up on the X-ray he would then take.

They said the pain would feel similar to a pap smear with some menstrual cramp-like discomfort.

Having been an expert in what my sister calls “raw dogging” cramps most of my life, I thought I would handle it like a champ.

PERO THEY LIED!

I have a friend who went through the same thing, and we’re on the same page—it’s torture. It’s far worse than cramps and hurts like a bitch.

On the bright side, it was a one-time thing, and it lasted only about a minute (even though it felt like 69 years).

After that, I had to take ovulation tests for three days leading up to day 15 of my cycle. If the tests didn’t show I was ovulating in those three days, I had to poke myself with an hCG injection (they would have done it for me, but day three fell on a Sunday).

Then, Monday was Insemination Day!

To Be Continued…

Don’t worry, you get to read all about that awkwardness—just not this week!

Oh c’mon, if you’ve been following my posts, you know that I’m good at getting you to come back. You can’t be too mad about it, I’m just a girl! 🥹

Follow my Insta @Vees.Journey to keep up with my life and blog! Ever experience a shitshow like this on your journey? Share it with me in a comment below and don’t forget to share it with friends and family. There’s nothing like word of mouth (or word of social media)!