I've always wanted a family. The word "big" never really played into it, but until I met J, I always thought I wanted 4. But he's already got 2, so I dropped my number of ideal hatchlings to 3. It's funny, you know, the plans we make.
We got J's results. The numbers are low. Not as obscenely low as before, but definitely low. Too low. Plus, there were infection-fighting cells present, which they didn't want to see at all. We're mildly freaked out about that because she wouldn't say what that meant aside from a possible prostate infection, but we're supposed to make an appt to see a specialist, so we'll find out then, I suppose.
I told her about the side effects I've been experiencing and I didn't even get through half of them before she said, "Whoa. OK. This is definitely your last cycle on Clomid. Visual disturbances are not good." So next on the list is injections with bloodwork and ultrasound monitoring and probably IUIs. Yes, I am a major needle-phobe. Yes, I feel woozy and nauseous thinking about it. Yes, I am going to do it.
Pfffffft.
3 comments:
I think ye are good candidates for IUI, bring it on I say.
Get you knocked up!
Do Orthodox priests do the Anointing of the Sick? I had my priest do that tonight, and, despite the bursting into tears, I feel more at peace. It might be another morsel of encouragement to you. We'll take anything at this point, right?
Shit.
And ((hugs))
And bring on the IUI.
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