Uf. We were all geared up for the fourth and final IUI this week, but the eggos just aren’t cooperating (no, autocorrect, I did not mean egos). We had several follicles but just not enough that were big enough to feel confident in our last try.
I’m super thankful that our doctor helped us think through this decision; although great physiologically, she helped us to consider how we’d feel if we weren’t pregnant after an IUI this cycle. She knows us (and infertile people) well enough to know that we would second guess ourselves and would have wished for a more optimal final round. So, we’re waiting.
In a lot of ways this feels ridiculous because, honestly, I don’t think an IUI is going to work for us. I don’t think that’s the problem or the solution. Also, it feels excruciating to wait another six weeks (minimum) before knowing if the harder road of IVF or adoption is in our future.
So of course after this decision I’m running to the pharmacy to fill some prescriptions and while waiting for the first to be filled I do some shopping. As I’m leaving the store, I get a call from my doctor following up on our decision so I’m juggling the phone call, my groceries, and my thoughts. Once I’m a few miles from the store we decide to go forward with the trigger shot and prometrium this cycle, so she calls the script into another drug store near home. Once there, I throw my bag in my trunk only to find that one of the eggs I just bought is oozing in my grocery bag. I hate eggs. Of all types.
Okay, now I’m just griping, but I must share this. I wait for — count it — 45 minutes at the second pharmacy, they fill the second prescription, and notify me that they do not have the Ovidrel! It is, however, available 20 minutes away, the opposite direction from my house. I’m a weenie and fighting tears and thank them politely and answer my husband’s call, eating the animal cookies I bought while waiting because I haven’t eaten lunch, and Hubs volunteers to pick it up for me. Thank you, dear husband. I hate eggs, but I love him.
So, the two week wait turns into a six week wait. Sure, there’s a chance it could happen this month without an IUI but I’m not holding my breath. Plus that’s probably bad for fertility. Uhhh, there was so much build up and emotion for this to be the final round, to have an idea of what moving forward would look like. I just want this wait and this pain behind us, and I want to know we’re going to be parents, hopefully this decade.