Catching my breath
IUI Sunday was fairly routine. The biggest wrinkle was that we couldn't get a sitter for a Sunday morning and due to a long, boring complication of who had to be where when, we had to drag BG 40 minutes downtown on the subway. My husband headed out first, gave his "sample," then BG and I met him near the clinic, I handed her off, and he entertained her for another hour while I went in for the IUI. Doctor doing the IUI was the same one who did the IUI in 2006 when I got pregnant (and also the one in 2009 when I thought I would get pregnant), so while not definitively a good omen, not a bad one either. Good sample, 26 million.
Since then, I've had plenty of symptoms, every single one of them attributable to the trigger shot, the ovary-plumping drugs, or the progesterone spike. Ridiculous Nipples, of course, are my trademark trigger shot side effect. Bloating, stretching, pulling, jostling in the pelvic area, all normal at this point in the process. But it's hard not to hope, all the same.