I really have a few posts that I have have backlogged, but my mother has been in town, so I haven’t been writing as much lately, but I wanted to make sure that I wrote today. Today, June 5th, was one of the big reasons I started this blog. I have been anxiously awaiting today since September, when I found out I was expecting, but anxiety turned into fear in December.
And here it is.
After my last post, I knew that June 5th wouldn’t be a big deal. And so far, it hasn’t. I’ve only been awake for about an hour, but so far, so good. 🙂 My EDD wasn’t the first thing on my mind this morning, and I haven’t cried at all today. In fact, I don’t think I’m going to cry at all! I did tell her that I missed her, but it wasn’t sad. It was just a confirmation of what everyone already knows.
Yesterday, we had an IUI. Last month, I had a small meltdown because of a low sperm count. 3.6 million. He also didn’t come with me to the IUI – he did what he needed to do at the andrology lab, and for the rest of the day, I was a single mother. It didn’t really bother me because he has taken off so much time already in the past year with fertility treatments, OB appointments, the termination, and the counseling. And really, he just sat around waiting for two hours holding my hand being bored.
So I was all alone when I took a peek at the sperm analysis. And the first thing my eyes caught was 3.5.
3.5? Again? I was so shocked that I didn’t react for about a minute, and then I howled in car. I was angry at him for not doing more (drinking more water, talking to a urologist, or even just taking his flippin’ vitamins!). I called him in a moment of panic and told him that I didn’t think we should waste the money on this IUI, but he convinced me to go to the office and talk to her about it at least.
Sniffling and morose, I started down the road. At a red light, I decided to read the paperwork again, and it turns out, 3.5 was the VOLUME. We had… wait for it… 17 million sperm AFTER the wash!
17. 17. 17! We got pregnant when we had 12 million! I am tearing up just thinking about it. I had always hoped that I would be pregnant by today, but… No. I don’t think it is wise to get my hopes up like that. I can’t allow positive thinking to twist itself into a BFP. I just need to enjoy this moment for what it is regardless of what happens in two weeks (or beyond).
So, here I am. My daughter’s (healthy) due date. 40 weeks. And I’m ok.
I think I’ll be listening to a few of my happy songs today.