I was hoping to be that really annoying girl for the rest of my life this month.
You know the one I’m talking about.
The one who says, “We’d been trying for 25 years to get pregnant and the month we took a break/changed doctors/quit trying/relaxed/signed adoption papers, we got pregnant!”
This month we used no meds. We didn’t try. I didn’t chart. No opks. No prenatals. Lots of caffeine. Some drinking(it was the holidays, y’all). We missed our fertile window pretty much entirely.
And still, those stories stick out in your mind and cling to your brain and give you hope that maybe it can be you too.
But, it’s not.
This month is the start of full steam ahead, no holds barred, all out infertility treatment month. This is what we had hoped to do all the way back in October, but everything got messed up and out of order and timed completely wrong. We’ve waited patiently impatiently for January to arrive so we can actually do this thing.
And it’s finally here. IUI month!
I start my Letrozole on Sunday. I have an appointment for my midcycle ultrasound on the 21st at 1. At that appointment I’ll be given my instructions as to when to give myself my injection of Ovidrel and then when to come back(with the hubs, of course) for the actual IUI procedure.
I’m trying to not get my hopes up too much. This will only give us the chances of a normal, healthy couple.
That doesn’t sound like a lot to me.
With that being said, we’re just trying to continue to trust in God. To rest in Him and His plan for our family. Our babies. Our children.
OR, as Jon Acuff says: “Next to journaling, “waiting” is Christianity’s favorite verb”
I’m down with that.