Swim, Buggers, SWIM!

I'd love to write a huge long post about every detail of our first IUI experience, but, really, what is there to write?

We will never understand why there's such a rush to get the sample to the clinic within 30 minutes of collection, since once you get there they make you sit around and wait before you fill out the proper paperwork to drop it off. It doesn't appear to have had any negative effect, though. The mini-analysis on Ezra's sample came back fine: good count, good motility.

Nurse Kid Gloves performed the actual insemination, and was in good cheer throughout. I mean, how can you complain about someone who not only warms the speculum, but does a test-touch against your thigh to make sure it's just right? Of course it doesn't matter how warm the damn thing is or how many times it gets readjusted; it still pinches like hell. But that was really the worst part. Nurse Glovely took a look and reported that flutes and violins were playing in the Orchestra Pit. Well, no, what she actually said was that I had plenty of good cervical mucous, but I'm allowing myself some liberties in translation. I didn't even feel the catheter going in, and was surprised at how quickly she declared the procedure "all done!"

Before the procedure, Nurse Glovely went over my progesterone dosing (one applicator worth of Crinone 8% each morning) and all follow-ups (consultation with Dr. Quixotic next Thursday, and beta on June 1). I asked The Question: When can I test at home? She recommended no earlier than the same day as my beta (which has already been moved up by a day), and reassured me that women do get false negatives. Nurse Glovely battled infertility herself, so she told me she knew how strong the urge was to pee on a stick...and confessed that she usually gave in. And as she slipped the catheter through my cervix, she piped up with, "This is the point where I usually thought to myself: Gentleman, start your engines!"

Really, how could I ever dislike this woman?

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Last year I packed away a few pairs of pants that were a couple sizes too big for me. I'd lost about twenty pounds, but my practical side couldn't quite set them aside for donation yet. So they were packed into a bag and set aside for...oh, I'll admit it. For early pregnancy. As if.

After yesterday's bloating and on the advice in the comments that I may experience even more after the IUI, I asked Ezra this morning to see if he could find the bag of "fat pants." Luckily for me, he retrieved them in short order, and today I am comfortably filling out a pair of stretchy black slacks a good size (maybe two) bigger than usual.

I've also had a fair share of cramping since this morning, and I can't take any ibuprofen...but if this is the highest price I have to pay, I won't complain. Much.