This really wasn't supposed to be that long ...

I'm all IUI'd up and in pain.

This was my morning ...

Patrick and I headed to the RE's office and were there around 7:30 this morning. Patrick worries the cup will spill or something if he does his part before we get there, so he prefers to ... produce ... at the doc's office.

He did his thing and then we went across the street to the main hospital and had breakfast. After that we just went straight back to the RE's office.

Where we waited another 2 hours. In an office that sported 2 toddlers.

Now ... please don't take this the wrong way ... but I really do wish those who have been lucky in having one wouldn't bring that one to the fertility clinic. Especially if you're bringing your partner whose presence apparently isn't really needed - as was the case today. The 2nd parent was nothing more than chair fillers in the waiting room for both sets.

The only ones who even acknowledged the 2 toddlers were the ones who brought them in. Everyone else, myself included, kept faces buried in various magazines. Between the toddlers and the longer than normal wait, I was fairly bitchy by the time they took Patrick and I back.

Where we discovered his count was 22 mil. Twice the norm! So rock on super swimmers!

After reviewing the heparin instructions with the nurse - 2 shots of 5,000 units per day - and making followup appointments for a progesterone check next Monday and the beta the following Monday, we both practically ran out of there.

I called the broker I spoke with on Saturday and confirmed we were going to put an offer on the house. She's putting some paperwork in the mail for us today and we should have that tomorrow or the day after. Then I called the realtor the broker referred me to and she pulled the information on the house for me.

The offer we planned on making is spot on. She even feels there's a good chance they'll take it without countering. If they counter and we end up having to go higher, she's going to try and throw in some closing costs for them to pay. The goal is to stay completely under or at what we're pre-approved for.

So the realtor is going to draw up the paperwork and I just have to get a time that Patrick and I can meet with her to go over it and she'll call with the offer.

Then it was on to Community Pharmacy for the PIO and then Walgreens for the heparin. Now I'm in my pj's and in pain and really hating to move.

On a side note ...

My dad has managed to piss me right the fuck off twice in 3 days.

Saturday it was his "you've been an ass since you dropped the one (he was referring to our miscarriage, thank you very much) and just need to know these things happen" and today it was "Have you ever tried to get pregnant without all of this?".

Buh.

The other day Patrick managed to side-track the fit I was about to throw and today I replied with a simple "Dad, I haven't used birth control since I was 22". That's 14 years of no protection outside of initial disease prevention. I'd call that "trying".

It's like the man apparently thinks Patrick and I woke up one morning and decided to go spend thousands of dollars on a doctor without even trying to get pregnant.

Which strikes me as strange. I've made no bones about my PCOS and the fact that I don't ovulate (that was another conversation he and I had "dad, you have to ovulate to get pregnant and I don't ovulate without the drugs"). Why on God's earth would the man think I'd put myself and my husband through all of this without already having 6 different doctors (3 gynes & 3 REs) and 14 years of un-birth controlled sex confirm that it's absolutely necessary?

I just don't get it.

I'm of the school of thought that if you don't try to educate your friends and family about what it's like, you have no right to complain that they don't understand. So I'm an open book. I've talked time and again about my lack of ovulation and that when I do, they're small immature eggs. That I don't produce progesterone (without the PIO, my highest level has been .61) and that progesterone is what's needed for a follicle to implant and a baby to be supported.

Shit - I've even harrassed him for his half of the lovely MTHFR problem I've been diagnosed with that is more than likely the cause of our miscarriage in March.

And the best he's come up with lately is "she doesn't understand that women in my family have miscarriages" and "have you tried getting pregnant without all of this?".

Holy fuckerballs. Maybe it's his way of trying to help (Lord help if that's it) or be supportive. I know he doesn't know what to say. I know it's alien to him. But shitfuck. Surely he can do better than asking if I'd ever thought of trying to get pregnant without all the drugs and shots.

At the rate he's going, I'm going to end up telling him to stop trying to talk to me about it because his version of supportive just leaves me wanting to poke his eyes out.

Ok ... that's enough. I've managed to spin myself up and there's no need to. The man has no idea what it's like and my brutal honesty doesn't seem to make a dent. So yammering about it is kind of pointless.

Besides, once we're in our house (eeeee!) it won't matter. I can simply say "Nope, no baby yet!" and leave it at that.

Ooooohhhh ... much better thoughts ... the house. I'm going to go think about it some more and cheer myself up.