Pragmatic me is returning, after the simple relief and joy of the last few days. That’s not to say I’m in a bad mood or depressed, just thinking of things in a different way.
Mostly, I’m a little awed by the strangeness of this situation.
How strange that I can drop my trousers and offer up my nether bits to a strange woman, allowing first one to give me a hormone shot in the ass and then another to literally wrench open my vagina. Then a thin tube full of NOT MY PARTNER’S sperm is threaded through my cervix and into my uterus where it is forcefully pushed into motion and roughly 13 million healthy swimmers are let lose to find an egg. If the swimmers turned left (my left, their right?) and the hormones did their job in time, an egg or two will meet said swimmers. If we’re lucky, conception will happen.
I’m calling this day 3 post IUI or 3dpiui for “those in the know.” Eight more wake-ups until I might have an answer if I’m impatient and risk looking.
I am walking around wondering if we conceived or not. Some women are sensitive enough to their hormones that they know right away, or have intuition. I have nothing but HOPE.