My first IUI

Today was the big day. I had the procedure done at 11am this morning. 49 million swimmers and all went well.

Dr. S came in and proclaimed that everything looked great -- endometrium, follicle, etc. He asked me if I was ready and I replied yes. "Let's get you pregnant," he exclaimed. He gave the swimmers a quick "get to work guys" and within 2 minutes, it was over. I asked him if he thought the uterus would be conducive to implantation and he gave a very non-committal "it's going to do what it's going to do, but I am less concerned because there is only one follicle." I'll take that! He genuinely seemed liked he hoped and wanted this to work for us.

As he and the nurse left, I was told to stay put for 15 minutes. As we listened to the timer ticking away, I felt so humiliated. Had it really come to this? A doctor just artificially did something that was supposed to be private and special. Instead, I was in a medical setting in a very vulnerable situation waiting for a timer to ding. My heart might as well been out on the table too. I must say though it was humiliating, I would have had it no other way. After 18 months of trying on our own unsuccessfully, I am ready to move on and get closure one way or another. This is our reality and the steps God has directed us to.

I am excited and hopeful. I choose to be joyful in hope! Now on with the wait. Boy do I love that word. :-)

The Big Day

* WARNING: Girl stuff mentioned :-)

"I am still confident of this:
I will see the goodness of the LORD
in the land of the living." Psalm 27:13

I was reminded of that verse in the car this morning while listening to my iPod. Tears came to my eyes as I knew that word was just for me. Again and again and again, God reminds me of his faithfulness in this trial. It's the water my soul needs to keep hoping.

I got back from Florida yesterday from my sister's graduation. I got to have some fun in the sun, lie on the beach and watch a magnificent sunset. I grew up in Florida, but had forgotten about the gulf breeze and smell of the ocean. It was so refreshing. I sat out by the canal and took in everything and was reminded that just the week before, I was in the mountains experiencing God's beautiful creation and now I was at the beach watching the sunset. What a blessed girl I am.

So, tomorrow is the big day! My first IUI. I wimped out on giving myself the trigger shot last night and made my husband do it. I am excited for a shorter cycle. It got sped up with the trigger. I am thankful for another step in the process.

Stars

I just got back from the mountains from a work retreat today. While lying on my pull-out bed in the loft trying to drift off to sleep, I was able to see the stars through the skylight above me and through the large windows to my side.

I can see stars at night at home sometimes -- but nothing like this. With no city lights, you can see millions. As I peered through the window I was reminded of the passage in Isaiah:

"Lift your eyes and look to the heavens:
Who created all these?
He who brings out the starry host one by one,
and calls them each by name.
Because of his great power and mighty strength,
not one of them is missing." Isaiah 40:26

That evening, at the cabin, a co-worker announced her good news, and of course my heart hurt for a second and was envious for the ease and sheer naivety and privacy of her experience, how simple it was for her -- first time, tired but don't know why, getting to announce to a totally clueless family and friends who don't know every in and out of your reproductive system, and getting to make a baby the old fashioned way. The way I dreamed things would be for us.

So, when I looked up at that big ol' sky and all those stars in it, I meditated on that passage and remembered just how much God loves me ... how utterly powerful and big my God is. I felt a peace in my heart and an assurance that He has not forgotten me. My miracle is coming.

It's an investment -- yeah that's it

That is the advice I got from a friend the other day. And it's good advice. It really is. After lamenting to her over forking all that money over with no guarantee in the end, she offered that advice. It did help me put things in perspective, but, nonetheless, somehow, handing over my wallet tomorrow for my first installment of treatment stings like you wouldn't believe.

I liken my monthly journey to a roller coaster ride, Expedition Everest, at Disney's Animal Kingdom. It's an intense ride that creeps up slowly at the beginning and has many turns, ups and downs and when you least expect it, changes directions out of nowhere. It's a ride that's fun and exciting for the first few times, but after a few whirls around the track, it's not as exhilirating anymore. You need a break cause your head hurts. I've ridden the coaster 18 times in a row. That's 18 whirls of ups and downs. Couple that with the scary Yetti out of nowhere (or in my analogy, a freaky, scary diagnosis thrown at you from out of nowhere) and it makes for one weary soul. When do I get to ride It's a Small World for a while?

Hey, does that one have a fast pass?

So, all aboard! The roller coaster has careened into the loading dock once again -- (yes, you guessed it) and I am jumping on again.

"Excuse me, are you a mother?"

After celebrating Mother's Day with the family, we ran by Sam's to pick up a few things. On the way out my husband handed our receipt to the lady that stands at the door so she could check what was in our cart. I was staring off looking at something. As we started our way out the door, I heard these words, "Excuse me, are you a mother?"

"No, I'm not, but thank you." She had a cart full of gifts she was giving out to mothers. But I didn't qualify.

I thought I might escape the annual tradition of getting asked this question this year, but it wasn't to be. Thankfully my husband laughed and said, "That's awesome!" We laughed. Crisis (and tears) avoided. I just wanted to buy some toilet paper...

Ah, Mother's Day

Mother's Day has always been a sore subject for me. I used to hurt on that day for the mom I never had, now I hurt for fear of the mom I will never get to be.

My own mother physically abandoned me at 16, although really, emotionally, she abandoned me and my siblings long before that. I never had the kind of mom who delighted in me, hugged and kissed me, signed my permission slips at school, picked out prom dresses, or gushed over me on my wedding day. In fact, I can count how many times she's said she loves me on one hand.

Instead, I had a mother who smeared ice cream cones in my hair, called me curse words and was too wasted to celebrate my 16th birthday with me.

I used to cry on this holiday for the mom I longed for. Why couldn't I have a mom like all the other girls? I was in a constant state of shame and constantly put on a smile and made excuses for her -- because I wanted to appear NORMAL, even though I hurt intensely inside.

To this day, I struggle how to honor her. It stings to even send her a Mother's Day card. But I do, because I try to show her the love of Christ and the forgiveness he extended me. It's really, really hard though to put pen to paper and come up with something to say and spend the stamp to send a woman a card who doesn't deserve it.

As the days and years went on, I had (still do) this overwhelming feeling that I was supposed to change my genetic family tree, you know, make it right. I was going to have my own children, and be the mother I never had. I was going to stop the generational sin that had gone on for so long. This was long before the infertility battle started raging. Through my tears and as a tender teenage girl, I heard God whisper that in my heart. I know I did.

So, therein lies my dilemma. Will I hold on to my faith even admist the silence? I heard God say this to me, but I haven't seen the fulfillment of the promise yet. Will I keep holding on? Absolutely. I see this as a proving grounds for my faith. Will I still love the Lord and trust Him and what he said, even though the fullfillment of the promise is delayed?

So, in the past Mother's Day hurt for different reasons. While the pain is still there over the mom I always wanted, it's lessened over the years. I just began to accept God's sovereignty in the situation and stopped expecting that my mom owed me something. I let it go.

Now, the pain of Mother's Day lies in not being a mother. I cry for different reasons. Didn't I experience enough pain already God? Are you cruel to have given me an awful mother and then not allow me to even have children myself? Can't you just give me this one thing? What about what you told me? I just want to teach them about you. How desperately I would love to have a first-born daughter, as I was, to experience the mother-daughter relationship the way it was meant to be.

So, I am left with a loving God, several promises and delay...

Obviously, He's up to something. I guess I'm in "wait" mode.

Meanwhile, I'll dream about the day Mother's Day is finally a day I can celebrate.

"He settles the childless woman in her home as a happy mother of children. Praise the Lord."
Psalms 113:9

Something goes right!

So, I ovulated on my own, on day 18 which is no short of a miracle for my PCOS self! In the past, when I have ovulated, I always did so on day 21 or so, so this is huge. I would ovulate on day 18 or so on drugs. Being able to do this drug-free is so encouraging. Because I am a thin PCOS person with only a mild case, it's likely that I can ovulate on my own. So thankful!

Now if I could only get pregnant on my own too. So, with that ovulation having happened, I know I'll start fertility treatment in less than 2 weeks. I am so indifferent about this whole process because it's more invasive and VERY expensive. My insurance doesn't cover these treatments and they hit the pocket book pretty dang hard. It's the next logical step though. I just pray that we don't spend thousands of dollars on these treatments and at the end have nothing to show for it.

So, so long to our summer vacation to Disney World. It just doesn't seem fair. Not only does infertility take over your life, it steals your money too. And we infertiles need a break from reality more than anyone.

Oh well, it's all worth it if it means I can be a mommy. I'd take that over ever being able to take a vacation again.

A plan

Went to the RE Tuesday and I've got a plan. I'm scared to death about spending a ton of money and having nothing to show for it in the end, but I have to try, and I have to trust.

As I've said before, I think I go into these appointments thinking they will be able to tell me for sure if I'll get pregnant. In my mind, I know they can't. Nobody can. But in my heart, I desperately want something to hold on to, for someone to assure me that the pain WILL end someday.

For me, I have to surrender this daily to the God who I know is sovereign in this situation and is the giver of life. I read a wonderful quote the other day. It said, "Though the pain intensifies, His plan has not been aborted." What comfort I find in that truth.

Knowing that God is sovereign, all-powerful and that he has the power to limit the intensity of my pain and knowing that he loves me desperately, I have to surmise that he is working a wonderful plan that He's right in the middle of. No matter what the outcome, even though I can't imagine it now, it will be the very best for me and I will be happiest with what he has planned.

That doesn't mean I'm not heartsick. I am. The Bible says that "Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life."

One day at a time, one foot in front of the other...Oh, and some more waiting. :-)