Eating in Paris

So here I am in gay paris for the very first time! I've already overdosed on bread and cheese and I'm planning to overdose on various kinds of crepes today. And I have a very good reason for doing so...

I thought this break in Paris would be the perfect medicine for my TWW. I thought that a week in an interesting city would be just the ticket. I thought an all expenses-paid trip courtesy of Mr.T's work would be heaven. But. There's always something isn't there? While sitting in the airport lounge waiting to board our flight, Mr.T leans over and says 'I forgot to tell you something. My colleague's wife (who we're traveling to Paris to spend the week with) is pregnant.' What? I say. Why didn't you tell me before? I forgot, he shrugs. Err... okay, this will be okay. I can do this, so she's pregnant, so what? Apart from the fact that every person I seem to come in to contact with recently is pregnant. Will you be okay? Mr. T asked me. Yeah, I'll be fine, don't worry.

And I was. At dinner I asked questions. I spoke with her at length and I was encouraging and smiling. But. She is going through the difficult food phase - so we had to stop at loads of different snack and food places on the way to find something for her to eat. Don't get me wrong. She is lovely and so is her husband. I enjoyed talking with them both. I enjoyed taking in the warm Summer Paris evening with Mr.T. Even if it was to stop off at every food stall in a square mile that we could find. But. It was a cruel reminder. I thought I was coming here to escape the whole TTC nightmare. To stop the constant imagining-pregnancy-mind games that my subconscious loves to indulge in during this time. But if we're gonna be eating constantly, I guess I could do a lot worse than Paris.

Now we're off to the Eiffel Tower and then the Louvre. Hopefully the overwhelming magnificence of both these places will render my subconscious silent. If not, I will render it silent myself by over indulging in some of Paris' most delicious patisseries, crepes, fromages and gateaux. Especially since we'll be stopping by nearly every food and beverage establishment anyway. Vive La France! And vive to eating your way out of difficult situations...

Itchy Boobs

I'm wondering if it's the progesterone? I realize in my last post I didn't really explain to those not in this wonderful TTC/IF world why I'm taking progesterone. In a nutshell, it's because it makes my uterus relax and ensures it's uber-ready for implantation. (That is, if we were lucky enough for a sperm to actually find and fertilize the egg.) I asked Dr.B if the progesterone was absolutely necessary since my hormone levels are fine but he said this would give it the best chance, and well every little helps. I guess.

So now I'm inserting these damn progesterone pessaries every night, which by the way, makes for a weird experience in the morning and actually during the rest of the day as well. I keep getting a not-quite-so-pleasant surprise everytime I go to the loo. When I wake up half of the pessary capsule seems to have dissolved and dried down my leg. Sorry no TMI warning here! This just needs to be said!

Okay I put one in. Just a little late is all.

Anyway back to the point of this post. Are my boobs itchy because of the progesterone? It was getting a bit embarrassing today in a meeting I had for work. I just really needed to itch them! I hope no one noticed... sometimes I just forget where I am! The desire to itch was too overwhelming. I looked on some forums but they were useless. Every single one telling me itchy boobs was a sign of pregnancy... hmmm... four days since my IUI, I don't think so. I'm convinced it's the P. Rone, let me know if you have any other thoughts??

And last but not least I wanted to thank you all for your words of encouragement and support over my drama drama IUI. Your words keep me sane. So I just wanted to thank you all from the bottom of my heart:

Wish I could give this to you for real.

IUI Drama Part 2

Ready for the next installment? Well this part is not as drama-filled or exasperating as the first. But. It. Has. Its. Moments.

So we headed down to Dr. B's office. I was really disheartened at this point and completely drained emotionally. Looking back on it, that was probably a good thing. It stopped me from being nervous or excited about the procedure. I was convinced it was too late already. 

Once in the clinic, I put on the gorgeous backless green gown and assumed the position. Bottom scooched down, legs in a position my grade 7 religious education teacher would definitely have disapproved of. Mr. T was by my side as we waited for Dr.B to prepare all the various metal instruments about to be inserted into me. I forgot to mention before that Dr. B likes to play music in his clinic. A lot. The very high-tech sound system is hooked up all over the office. He plays nasheed music non-stop. This is basically Islamic choir music. One of the most famous nasheed singers is Sami Yusuf. This is who Dr. B likes to play. 

Dr.B began. I could hear the music all around me as it started to get quite uncomfortable with all the instruments shoved in down there. Kind of like having a mouth full of metal braces and then some. I felt the catheter go in, this always makes me tense as hell. Then just as Dr.B was pushing through Mr. T's this-is-one-I-prepared-earlier (or should that be two?), the tone of the music changed. The room was suddenly filled with a dramatic rumbling DUN-DUN-DUHHH!! DUN-DUN-DUHH!! Mr.T cracked up and started mimicking the dramatic music, which made me laugh. Don't make me laugh! I said through clenched teeth. Yes please don't laugh, said Dr.B. Oops, had I just pushed out all Mr.T's hard-worked for spermies? No, it was fine. The insemination had gone well.  Out came the instruments. Ahh what a relief! And then Dr.B changed the elevation of the bed so I was virtually lying upside down. Well nearly anyway. So I just kinda hung out there - feeling like David Blaine. Reflecting on the weirdness of the day and how I couldn't believe we had actually done it and got through it, that we had actually made it to this point.

One of the lovely nurses came to speak with me. She was wishing me well and said she prayed that this would be it for us. We started speaking about a number of things including adoption. Most babies put up for adoption in Morocco are from young unmarried women. You see, it's against the law to have a baby outside of marriage here. It forces so many women down difficult paths and leaves them with few choices. Even Mr.T and I were asked for our marriage certificate when we were at the clinic at the start of this IUI process. She asked me how it was in the UK. Unmarried women can have babies there right? It's not a problem? She asked. No, it's not a problem. Unmarried women have children all the time, I replied. She smiled. That's better, she said. Otherwise women sometimes do awful things. They can't tell anybody, they are so frightened of their families. We smiled at each other. She in her headscarf and me in my backless green gown, lying upside down. 

When I was finally released from my bat-like position, we went in to see Dr.B. He told me to begin my progesterone the next day and continue it for the next 15 days. You can take them orally or vaginally, as you wish, he instructed. Erm... well I know which I prefer. But is it more effective if they're closer to the site in question?? I told him we were flying to Paris and then on to London next week, would this be okay? Not a problem he reassured me. I told him I was grateful to have done the IUI at his office and not in the clinic-from-hell. He smiled. Yes it's better here. You can relax, have some music... Oh no, not the music again Dr.B! 

Mr.T and I went back to our hotel room and crashed. What a mofo of a day. But I only slept for all of about twenty minutes. There was just too much adrenalin and stress running through my body, despite having done a round of acupuncture the day before to calm me down. I proceeded to watch three different movies on the ipod. Thick as Thieves - fairly good. 88 minutes - terrible. Crips & Bloods, Made in America - compelling, thought-provoking stuff. I got all that movie watching done while Mr.T was snoring away beside me. Well he had worked hard and under very difficult conditions. Bless him.

So the plan of action is to wait and see if AF shows up and then if not POAS. I will be visiting my parents back in the UK at the end of the TWW, so at least I can get some pregnancy tests that I'm used to, if I need them. Emphasis on the IF.

On a side note, my MIL did something different. Something she has never done before. The next day she came to me and apologized. She apologized for not being thoughtful, for not realizing, she explained that we were brought up in different cultures and that she needed to understand me better. She was sorry for what had happened yesterday and sorry for any pain or hurt I felt. She gave me a box of handmade chocolates she went out and bought for me especially, as a way of saying sorry. 

This is the first time she had ever done this. It meant a lot to me and I'm grateful she made this effort to establish a better relationship between the two of us. If my IUI day taught me anything, it taught me to realize that this is a crazy unpredictable world, and whatever you think can never happen, can and often will. I just hope this comes true for us and our maybe baby.