Well, the final IUI is on the books.
The trigger shot ended up being a hilarious non issue. I made La get up with me and count down, which she did. And when she got to “1” I jammed the needle in my thigh and . . . LAUGHED. Because I was shocked at how little it hurt, and by little I mean not at all. I laughed because I really managed to make a big deal out of something so inconsequential. Afterwards, though, I did feel pretty badass. At least when your partner is to scared to give you a shot, it means she will be really impressed when you give it to yourself.
I decided to take the day off of work on Friday so that I wouldn’t have to drive back and forth across town before the IUI. Plus, La watches our nephew Liam on Fridays and he’s kind of irresistible and if I have an excuse to stay home with them, I will.
Can you blame me?
So La and Liam came with me to the IUI. This is a first since the other times have been when La is teaching and can’t get away. Of course, given the awkward situation we are in with the clinic, this isn’t necessarily the most straightforward experience. By which I mean, all of the nurses and other folks have just assumed that BFF is my husband, an assumption we have not corrected because we don’t want to risk the extensive quarantine process. This means that when La is with me, there are lots of assumptions made about who she is, but never is that assumption that we are gay together. Throw a baby in to the mix and people are even less inclined to go there.
Sometimes I wonder if the choice we are making is cowardly. I don’t have ethical qualms but I do think about the history of homophobia, internalized and not, and wonder if we are contributing to it? On the other hand, I have long said that as long as fucked up systems exist for marginalized people, those people should not feel one iota of shame about using those systems to their advantage when possible.
But it’s complex.
This IUI wad definitely the most painful one yet. It took the nurse forever to get the speculum in and arranged, an issue I’ve never experienced before but Damn it hurt. And the catheter was also easy pinchier and crampier than before too. But since the HSG remains my benchmark for cervical and uterine pain, it was really not a big deal in comparison.
And now we wait. This go around I have the privilege and pleasure of using prometrium suppositories. I’m grateful for the progesterone support, since my levels have been so low the last few cycles, but those things are the pits. I hate that I kind of have to hope I’ll be using them for a long while. Ugh.
One per vagina, eh??
We rounded out the day with haircuts, which were desperately needed, so that’s nice. But now it’s back to waiting, and I am sorely out of practice.