I went in for more Day 21 bloods on Friday because ho yes, I DID go ahead with another donor insemination cycle, so bla bla, it's not over til the fat lady sings bla but I'm pretty darn sure I ain't no knocked up chick.
The whole thing has been so rote this month, not that it wasn't last month, but last month my body was all "mreowww!", and this month I was all "what? you're kidding? I'm OVULATING??" ie So! Not! RRRRRandeh! and because of which, it kind of surprised me that I was actually fertile AT ALL this month. Easter break probably had something do do with it (not that religious holidays kill my libido, but because I don't really know why that might have been a factor oh look something shiny), and the fact that the unit fucked up my dates.
I told them I got my period on the third, and they told me to come in on day ten to start a new cycle. "Come in on the fifteenth", they said, WHICH DOESN'T ADD UP. Which I knew but didn't really care about because the theme of this month appears to be Whatthefuckever, Dude.
So! The whole shebang took place on the seventeenth and eighteenth of this month.
The [euphemism] procedure [/euphamism] (aside: the inseminator thing is about 3 feet long NO KIDDING and the only way I can explain that amount of superfluous length is I CAN'T
) on the seventeeth was with TWO nurses standing at my business end of things because one was a LEARNER and this was the FIRST time she'd done it, and why not have as many people as possible crammed in a room and looking at my girlparts. The experienced nurse talked The Learner through, and LN did well, then ExN turned away for an instant and LN chose that moment to extract the speculum, which she did by winding it closed - which was joyous for my twat but So! Not! advisable following an insemination procedure - and whipping it out. Experienced nurse has explained to me THREE times (ie each day of the last month's effort) that it ISN'T a good idea to do a) the winding down or b) the whipping out, because of the potential for the deposited whatevers to unpool itself from the front porch of your cervix on the winding down, and to go flying through the air (okay, OKAY. Leak out) on the Whipping Out, so when she turned back and saw the Ta Da! moment as the speculum was theatrically flourished in the air (OKAY! REMOVED WITH NO FANFARE. AT ALL. But STILL), her eyes flared a little before she got a grip and didn't slap her hands across her horrified mouth. My guess is LN got a quick primer on speculum removal shortly thereafter.
On the morning of the eighteenth, a) I had to drop Daniel off at a sitter at fucking 7am which is worth a mention because MY GOD, and b) the nurse was that negative one that says dumbass things like "your bloods are looking good, which is SURPRISING/AMAZING/UNBELIEVABLE considering you
're an old hag, look at your
AGE", and who does dumbass things like whipping out the speculum so fast she flung the [airquotes] reproductive material [/airquotes] all over the wall. OKAY. It leaked onto the sheet under me, BUT STILL, it did as much good there as it would have had it been wallpapered. I was pretty pissed about that because she should have known and done better because she's done this a BILLION times. She didn't seem to give a crap though, probably because she thinks I'm wasting her time anyway, what with The Old and all, upshot being, TWO days' of business ended up in places other than where it was meant to be, ie on the sheet under my ass and no where near my damn cervix.
So no doubt this month will be filed under I Spent A Lot Of Money And All I Got Was This Wet Patch.
But still, day 21 bloods were done and I'll call for results tomorrow, not because I think I maybe just could be pregnant, but because numbers keep me sane. I get a certain (weird, no doubt) satisfaction from getting the technical information. Probably because I' m weird.