Take Two

It's been three weeks since the dreaded and disappointing pregnancy results.  If the absence of a pink line wasn't enough, I got my period later the same day I took the pregnancy test.  How's that for a double whammy? 

The very next day, I found myself in the Kaiser pharmacy picking up another prescription of Clomid.  Soon enough, on day three of my cycle, I started popping the hormones and preparing for round two.  No time to wallow and cry over spilled milk.  Just gotta roll with it! 

Five days later, on my last day of Clomid, I flew to New York for a weekend and escaped the reality of the missing pink line.  I strolled Central Park, gawking at the leaves turning color, sang along with the Jersey Boys, sailed up to the top of the Empire State Building and caught up with a good friend.

Once home, it was back to business - taking and recording my temperature before getting out of bed, and peeing on an ovulation test strip each morning.  Like clockwork, I got the smiley face on day #16 of my cycle - the same day as last month.  I set up an appointment with Kaiser for the next day and called PRS to let them know I'd be by to pick up my swimmers that afternoon.

Feeling as if I was acting in a scene from Groundhog Day, I returned to PRS once again, picked up my abnormally large box containing my swimmers, carried them through the busy lobby of 444 DeHaro and sat them securely in the back seat of my car.  Only this time, I took the lil guys home with me for the night.  Yes, that's right, they stayed the night with me in my apartment.  And no, I didn't sleep with them, though I did have them pose for a few pictures:)

The next morning, I loaded the boys again into the back seat of the car.  They cruised down the peninsula with me and waited patiently in the car as I carried on with a parent - teacher conference in my classroom and prepped my half-sub for the day.  8:30am, I hopped in the car and cruised further down south to Redwood City Kaiser. 

After checking in, I sat in the waiting room enviously observing large pregnant women waddle in and out, as my swimmers were behind the scenes getting warmed up for their journey. This time a month ago, I was too busy giggling with Jules and answering eager texts to notice big bellies passing by.

My appointment was with another doctor, as my last doctor was not available all day.  Whatever, didn't bother me much.  I was pleasantly greeted by a gray haired, spectacle wearing grandfather-like gentleman who got started by announcing, "OK, I hope this is your lucky day!  Time to make a baby!"

Like round one, the procedure took just minutes.  Lay back on the table, feet in the stirrups, insert metal speculum, insert catheter, release swimmers, a bit of uncomfortable cramping (more than the first time), and finally close the legs and remain on the table for 15-20 minutes.

After dressing, loading the box and tank back into the car, I returned to school, relieved my sub and carried on with my day.  Yup, just like that - as if I has just left for an hour for a routine check up.  No one had a clue that I had really left campus to go get pregnant. 

Other than my mother, and one friend who happened to call me as I was picking up my swimmers, I didn't tell anyone I was scheduled to get inseminated this time.  The first time around, I was texting friends status updates from the moment I picked up the lil guys, to the moment they were being introduced into my body.  Why the drastic change in publicity?

Um, not exactly sure, though doing it this way, this time around, felt right.  Part of me just didn't want to hop on the roller coaster of emotions.  I was so excitedly giddy, super positive and sailing on a high the first time around, that when I was faced with the results, I barreled down into the depths of negative thoughts, disappointment and depression. 

I was angry and felt betrayed.  Strong words, I know.  Well, they were strong emotions.  All the praying, offerings, meditating, preparation; not just by me, but also my friends gone to waste.  How aggravating!  Don't worry, I've cooled down.  I don't really consider all the praying and preparation a waste - it's just at the time, I needed to point an angry finger at something.  The something turned out to be Spirit. 

I know that Creator will deliver this spirit baby when the time is right.  I didn't get pregnant this time around for a reason.  I know.  I understand.  The time was not right.  OK, I get it.  Though as much as I want to, I'm not sure I can maintain an extraordinary level of positivity each time I prepare and await fertilization.  Sounds horrible, I know.  Clearly, I'm still stuck in a rut. 

What to do?  Psych myself up, ooze positive vibes, think happy thoughts and set them out into the universe?  Or, come down a level, (or several levels), get realistic, face the reality of the 5-20% success rate of IUI and spare myself the death drop of the roller coaster ride?  Just as I'm not sure whether I can sustain high levels of positivity, I don't think I can wallow in the depths of disappointment either.

Find a balance I suppose.  Balance.  That's the answer to so many avenues in life, right?  So where does that leave me?  Think positively and practically.  Know that this will happen - in time.  And, know that along the way, I have lessons to learn. 

Well, I'm in the midst of the waiting game.  I still haven't told many people that I went in for round two, though I think word has spread, and if friends do know, they're not bringing it up.  Perhaps less performance anxiety this time around will yield positive results and two pink lines!