Adventures in sperminating.

I went to a fertility specialist last week. We’ve been trying to get pregnant for about a year now, and nothing so far. The doctor asked a lot of questions, and they ran a lot of tests, including a complete blood panel (normal), hormone levels (normal), and a vaginal ultrasound. A WHAT, you say? Vaginal ultrasound — and it’s exactly what it sounds like. They stick a a probe up your cooter to get ultrasound images of your ovaries. Turns out mine have a few cysts on them. This, in addition with some other unpleasant symptoms (like the sasquatch hair that would be sprouting from my chin, if not for my obsessive tweezing ritual), gave me a diagnosis of polycystic ovarian syndrome (PCOS).

I am now on medicine called Metformin, which in addition to the Femara, should help coax the eggs down. Before, it was just me, my calendar and a few ovulation detector sticks waging this battle. Now, I’ve got science on my side. In about a week, I have another dream date with the vaginal probe (helloooooo, friend!) to see how big my eggs are, and if they are ready to come out and play. Then the doc will give me a shot to release an egg. Pharmaceuticals. Gotta love ’em.

As part of this science project, the doc also wants to test you-know-who’s spoo. The process goes something like this — after untitledhusband gets up close and personal with a specimen jar, I rush it to the lab in less than 30 minutes so they can see if the boys have their sea legs. This has been tough to schedule, with our busy lives and such. Since he was working from home the other day, I decided to run home over lunch and get the sample, which I would then run over to the lab. Perfect, right? Well, I get home and there sits the brown paper sack, which contains the collection jar which contains the spoo. Next to it are some heart-shaped candies, which I thought was a romantic touch, given the situation. It would’ve been a Hallmark moment, if not for the fact that the specimen had been sitting there for the past hour. My mind raced back to when I was seven years old, watching a plastic aquarium full of dead Sea Monkeys.

All foibles aside, my gut tells me that one of these months, we’re going to be successful and all this trauma will take a backseat to bouts of morning sickness (which always hits me at night) and heated discussions on the name Owen versus Octavius. Of course, if we make it happen, untitledhusband will have to break it off with Little Miss Rubbermaid. But I’m sure he’ll adjust.

7 thoughts on “Adventures in sperminating.”

  1. I can see the greeting card now. The cover will just be a picture of a clear jar with the jizzum, some running down the side, and a package of candy hearts. Both of these items are being held by a teddy bear dressed as a doctor. When you open it up, the card says ‘Open your mouth and close your eyes, I’m gonna give you a big surprise’.

    THat is just so romantic.

  2. Speaking as a fellow girl-with-PCOS, good luck and hang in there…

    And watch out for that metformin. It gave me horrible horrible side effects that I am too delicate to mention in public

  3. Wow, I can’t believe you didn’t know you had PCOS! My cysts were so painful I thought I would die! …aaaaaaand that’s why I’m having a hysterectomy next month.

    Good luck, though, with the trying and then with the morning sickness. Zofran, I tell you. Zofran will cure all your ills. 😀

    De lurking in honor of delurking week. I think you’re hilarious!

  4. Ah vaginal ultrasounds–nothing like a date with the probe. The worst part was watching my doctor tearing open a foil packet with a condom in it and not knowing what was going to come next. ; )

    And what’s up with these pharmaceutical names–they sound like comic book characters. I’m glad Metformin and Femora are fighting on your side. May the force be with you!!!

  5. hello im so there with you im doing the same dang thing too….. im on my second round of femora as we speak on top of taking metformin so if if can hang in there you can too….
    take care
    armywife 2015

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