TTC - Onward

Pincushion  (c) Shutterbug

It is just seven weeks since we lost our baby, and here we are well and truly back on the TTC train. TTC roller coaster.

We trudged back into the Mt. Sinai clinic, dreading our day three scan and the chance of running into our now least-favourite doctor (Dr. Arthur), but we were in the clear. My blood work came back showing my hCG levels were back to normal, so we were free to start another cycle with Clomid.

5 days on 150mg of Clomid, the maximum dose available. Remembering to take it, dealing with the hot flashes and bloating and headaches, coping with the emotional instability that could be attributed to the drug or to the trauma...so goes our path to parenthood.

Counting down the days to Day 11 and the scan that would show us where things were at, it was difficult to focus on much else. By the time my name was called and I hopped up on the ultrasound table, I was nearly sick with anticipation. I had bet on three follicles this month; my wife on two. We waited while Dr. Greenblatt pressed unbearably hard on my ovaries, and announced in her very pronounced lisp that there was one follicle on the right side. My heart sank as I realized she seas not going to add anything else. I felt like the drug was useless and the effort wasted, but at this stage who is to say there would have been anything at all without it.

The blood work is always the real issue. Day 11 it took two technicians three tries to find a vein: both arms, and the back of one hand. Day 12 we were given a pass and got to sleep until a normal hour. Day 13 it took two tries by one clearly inexperienced tech, and Day 14 it took two tries by one obviously irritated tech. Sometimes I want to grab the needle and stab it into their eyes, is that so wrong?

Feeling like a human pincushion and totally fed up with the process yet again, I went in for my IUI on day 15. Nurse Kathy asked for the usual history, and took it all in stride. My eye kept going to the unusually thick binder with my name on it in front of her, and I finally asked to see the ultrasound photos that were taken during my pregnancy. I looked at them with a morbid fascination: despite the difficulty in making sense of them, they were physical proof of what I had, and what we lost.

Kathy proceeded to complete the easiest insemination of our entire history at any clinic. Did the miscarriage change my cervix in some way? Is this what IUIs are like for other women? I was shocked to hear that she seas done, since I had hardly felt a thing. I wanted to hug her.

This sperm sample was not our best; only a 3 million count compared to the previous averages of around 9 million (top count was around 18 million), but we keep telling ourselves it only takes one. One tenacious swimmer. We are not going to complain about the sample quality, even though it falls below the guaranteed count. Complaining just takes too much energy.

It is now 6 days past IUI (6dpiui), and I took a home pregnancy test to get a baseline negative. If it had come out positive then it would mean the hCG trigger shot was still in my system. Since it is negative, that means any positive result from this point forward is due to what's going on in my body, and not any of the drugs. 

It's hard to put into words the strain of this process. The mental, physical, and emotional drain and preoccupation; trying to remain hopeful and positive, yet not get our hopes up too high, and trying not to lose our minds.

I think I lost that battle long ago.