Magic Fertile Beans

I'm not sure what's between rated PG13 and R, but I feel this post in somewhere in between :)

After my thyroid was under control, my doctor in Iowa City told me that I could start on the new fertility drug, Femara and then try the IUI process at the same time. I can only be on the drug for about 6 months, and she said "if it's going to happen it will likely  happen in the first 3 months." If this doesn't work, then we have to seriously rule in or out going through IVF. So here's the next comedic chapter.
Earlier this month, I unwent another procedure, called an IUI. Basically it takes out the "romantic" part of making babies. It can be hard through this process to not feel very institutional because of all of the proper medical terms, hard metal medical tables, and giant names for procedures. (There is no talk of wee-wees and va-jay-jays during times like these.). So I have lovingly termed my eggs, "my magic beans" and Brad's *ahem* contribution, "his magic beans".  You will find, not for my embarrasment of proper medical terms, but for my sanity throughout this process, I rarely will use the proper medical term. It allows me to laugh that way. And thank goodness for Brad and my sister Jessica and the silliness they add to this mahem.

In a nutshell, when  you go in for an IUI, they take his magic beans, check them, and spin them so that only the "good stuff" is left. The nurse then takes them and drives a tube, well, you can guess where.

You would think that during such a trying time in our lives that an experience like this wouldn't be hilarious. But of course it's me, so it can't be simple.

We are at the doctor's office with his magic beans and Brad jokes, "hopefully they can take out any that are running into each other because they are stupid". And of course he uses his fingers to demonstrate the little guys running into each other.  Then after the 15 minutes they need to spin his beans down, they call me back. Brad didn't come back. I don't blame him, but I told him if this works, he's going to have to get used to this. The super nice nurse tells me, "They look really, really good. Number is good. They are all swimming the right direction." I almost busted out laughing. Well, at least there weren't any stupid ones.

So then I climb on the awesome, cold, metal table and put my feet in the comfy (not) cups. The nurse introduces to the medical intern who (I don't know how) looks more uncomfortable about being there than I do. Then we start, The nurse starts the procedure by driving a medical instrument into a place that's not all that comfortable. And she can't find my cervix. What?  Where did it go? This is no time for a vacation. Finally after poking and prodding, she finds it. Then says, "it looks beautiful". Omg. Seriously? Did she just compliment me while inches from my girl parts on my "beautiful cervix?"

Then. UGH. A couple of attempts with the giant plastic tube. Then she peers over the paper blanket between me and her and says, I'm going to get the doctor because it doesn't want to go in easily and we can use an instrument to open the path, but she's better at using it than me. She was so sweet and I felt better that she was stopping where her expertise ended versus just jamming that thing into my flesh.

While's she's gone, the intern stands there with her arms crossed in the uncomfortable "what should I do pose". She looked more terrified than I felt and she didn't have a couple of medical instruments hanging out of her...well, you know. So I break the ice..."Where are you going to school? How are you liking it?". Anything to dial down the ackward tension and silence she was exhuding.

Then the nurse comes back with the doctor. And wouldn't you know. It's doctor "You're no spring chicken". You have to be freaking kidding me.  Am I on Candid Camera? She plops into position and tells me, you're going to feel a pinch. The nurse explains that the doctor is going grab the edge of the opening into my uterus  to get the tube in. The nurse patted my knee and excitedly said, "This might be your problem. Things will come out but opening it's being friendly for things going in". Well, that makes complete sense. Everything seems to be perfect, but if his beans aren't making it to my beans, well, that would explain alot.

OUCH! That was certainly a pinch. I actually felt her "grab" it. I hope no woman has to feel that. Yikes! "You're going to feel some cramping when I get in there". As I want to curl up into the fetal position. Yep, definitely cramping. You're definitely there. Please don't pass out. Please don't pass out.

Then it just gets more glamourous. They shove a sponge, well, you know where and tilt you up so your hips are up in the air to let gravity do it's thing. So I sit for 15 minutes.

Then the nurse comes back in and tells me I can go. I could tell she wanted to hug me. "Good Luck!" she says. And sends me on my way.

I meet Brad back in the waiting room. I tell him about how his beans are all swimming the right way. He laughs. Then I tell him, simply: Be nice to me. I have been violated.

And so we wait.

Cue Tom Petty:
The waiting is the hardest part
Every day you see one more card
You take it on faith, you take it to the heart
The waiting is the hardest part