Friday, October 2, 2015


My last post ended with the us having another appointment scheduled to start the whole process over again since the last round of meds didn't work.  That appointment has come and gone.  I was prescribed 150mg of Clomid every day for seven days. That's one of the highest dosages they give so the side effects made themselves WELL known.  #HotFlashesForDays  This regiment worked so much better than the last one.  12 days after starting this round of meds I was right where the doc wanted me so I could take the trigger shot.

We decided that we were going to jump straight to IUI for this round.  So we scheduled another appointment for two days later.  Intrauterine insemination, or IUI, is a process in which the sperm are 'washed'.  They separate the good ones from the deformed and bad ones.  The doctor then places only the good sperm inside the uterus, giving you your best chances of conception.  Joe has affectionately been calling the procedure 'turkey basting'.

As we were sitting in the waiting room to be called back, I was noticing the different types of people that were sitting all around us as I've done every time I've been there.  There was a couple in their late 30's-early 40's, the wife looked kind and caring like she could have been a Sunday School teacher.  There was a young couple that had driven many hours to get here and arrived late the night before.  There was a gorgeous 20-something African American lady and her tall, dark, and handsome husband.  A middle-aged balding white male.  There was a couple who were around our age or maybe even a bit younger.  The husband had a dark beard, tall stature, and you could tell he worked with his hands while his wife looked like she could have been the captain of the cheerleading squad or a beauty pageant participant.  And then there was us.

As I observed everyone in the waiting room I couldn't help but notice the differences between everyone.  Most, if not all, of our paths would probably have never crossed had it not been for this waiting room.  We would have never been together had it not been for this one common denominator we all shared...infertility.  You see, infertility doesn't care if you're 40 or 22.  If you're married or in a relationship, if you spend your time molding the lives of children or if you spend it under the hood of car.  If you have blonde hair, brown hair, red hair, or no hair.  If you're black or white or if you look like Miss America.

Joe and I may be a different age, or nationality, or look different than many of the people in the waiting room that day but when you strip away age and hair color or the color of our skin, we're all really not that different.  We're all human.  Humans who are all fighting for the same goal to create a family that we can love and nurture and watch grow.

Everyone is fighting their own battles, somebody's might even be similar to yours.  Be kind, be patient, and spread some love.  You may have more in common with that stranger next to you than you think.

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