The Fertility Giggles (Part 2)

Part 2. The “laughs”. Dear parents/in laws/family/those that just don’t want to know – STOP READING! You can’t say I didn’t warn you…!!

I like to think as I’m “the problem” and I’ve been [available… #retiredlife ] and have attended more appointments, I have a further understanding than Mr. Perfect husband, aka James. I say Mr. Perfect because every time he is required to produce a sperm sample, he is routinely told it is “very good! Perfect in fact!” When we underwent our first IUI procedure, the lovely nurse actually also said “Well done!!” to him – we were in fits of giggles.. So there is nothing really wrong with his little swimmers. I will {overshare, as is routine for me!} that we know from tests that James produces four times the amount of said little swimmers in any sample, against your average Joe Bloggs.

Within that though, the ones that are actually going to bother swimming for it, is perfectly level and in line with every other guy. So yes, in sum, he produces four times as many, but that {four times} bunch are basically reject, Nemo-finned, “special little guys” swimming in circles. I shouldn’t be surprised as James is often directionally… challenged, shall we say… nevertheless, once the rejects are sifted out, the strong guys are super strong. James is, perfect. Don’t tell him I said that.. I like to play him down 😉😜 [love you, darling 🤗]. 

Courtesy of google images

It becomes pretty all consuming, all the trying. If we aren’t on a fertility meds cycle, I wonder and I hope, that my body will randomly ovulate and conceive off its own accord. There’s no saying that one day my body might just work properly and do so, but who knows when or why. There commonly are stories of ladies finally falling pregnant with fertility treatment, and going on to have further children on their own: something about pregnancy just seems to make the body realise again what it’s meant to be doing. It’s not something I could just wait and see if it happened on its own one day; because it might not, and then I would never achieve the only thing I have always known I wanted to be; being a Mother. To me, it seems already apparent that my body isn’t yet ready to ovulate off its own accord again. There have been a few months in the past 18 months were I haven’t been on any treatment, and still not conceived, or in some cases – we know I hadn’t ovulated. Although not yet pregnant, I am very grateful to be alive during a time where fertility treatments are available and successful. At the moment, I can only still hope that they will work for us – there is no guarantee, but for now, that in itself keeps me going.. just. 

So, now for – what I think are – the amusing bits! I can tell you for starters, that I have become a pro at getting my “bits” out for a transvaginal scan. More often than not these days, I’ve stripped my pants off and am up on the bed with my legs spread before the nurse can even lock the door (note ladies; wear a dress or skirt for these scans in order to feel slightly less starkers, that way you can just take your tights/knickers off and have a little coverage). I have yet to go through labour, but in terms of the dignity lost whilst pushing a small human out of your vagina – I reckon I am already right up there with the amount of medical professionals that have been prodding medical instruments up there for the last 18+ months.

In part 1, I mentioned the word “relaxed” in relation to sex whilst trying to conceive. This is, in itself, hilarious; sex becomes desperate… and not in the good way..desperate to make sure you’re at it regularly enough, desperately making sure you hurl your legs in the air and keep your bum raised and let gravity do its work (ladies) THE SECOND ITS OVER. Desperate in that you are probably making yourself so over-anxious (if you are a pro at severe anxiety like me) that your body is too tense to conceive {side note; I don’t know if that’s a thing, but it seems likely!}. 

Sex becomes.. as much of a chore as cleaning the house. Wonderful, right? Exactly what you want in a loving relationship, one wanting to pro-create. One of the few things us humans do for pleasure, and now the pleasure has become a hassle. Not fun, not sexy, not exciting and certainly not romantic. There have been nights when one – or both – of us (but let’s be real here; I don’t exactly have to do the hard work for this bit..!) has just been so tired it’s been beyond unsexy. It’s a wonder he still loves me and has any interest in me whatsoever. Recently, I have found myself beyond exhausted – I completely blame the meds and extra crazy hormones – to the point that I am barely getting through a day without a nap (or 2!), and I am flat out fast asleep by 9.30… There has been a point where I knew our IUI treatment was upcoming, and I had a vague recollection of having to abstain for 2 days, but have intercourse within 5 days prior to the treatment, when I was so exhausted I literally handed James some lube and told him to crack on with it… I may have even fallen asleep whilst he was at it.. Who said romance was dead?!

As you can tell, the medications you need for each treatment become more and more. For IUI, you have to insert progesterone pessaries twice a day, for 15 days. You can do this vaginally, or rectally, and they actually recommend rectal because it’s less “messy”. But let’s just say… no… ain’t nothing going up there if I can possibly avoid it. [Personal opinion, and I’ll tell you now, 6 days in, I’m tempted to try rectally.] So vaginally it is [for now]. To deal with the “messy” they suggest the use of pantyliners. So here I am feeling like I’m 14 again dealing with sanitary towels. No offence meant to anyone who uses them – what works for you and all that: I actually have a couple of friends who use them on those MEH OUCH period days – but for me, the discovery of tampons was like the discovery of sliced bread. So. Much. Easier. 

I also find myself faced with yet another slight dilemma in this new world of pessaries.. are we actually meant to have sex?! Originally I thought we’d have to squeeze a quickie in before my evening pessary was inserted.. but to be perfectly honest, my vagina seems to now be a seeping, leaking “slightly messy” progesterone producing vault 24/7 and I feel slightly gross about suggesting James “go there” in any way, shape or form…

And as for the worries… my god the worries.. I have actually text two of my besties in a group chat before saying “what if my vagina just can’t retain sperm?!” It also doesn’t seem to cross my mind to just google sometimes but instead I reel off messages with random, oversharing info and questions to friends – to the point last weekend, one of them was actually just responding with what google was saying..!! I mean all of you that actually know me, know I already have an insane mental mind.. let alone with extra worries and anxieties and literal cray cray thoughts spinning around up there..! I want nothing more than to be a Mother, but I am worried about conceiving; when will I, why then? I am worried about morning sickness and miscarrying, I am worried about something being wrong with the baby – or babies – I am worried about coping with pregnancy – because I can’t help but feel this wonderful image of “Yummy Mummy beautiful Earth Mother all bump” 🤰🏽I have created for myself in my mind won’t ACTUALLY be a true picture of the ragged mess of a whale I am likely to be..{hormones and meds means I’ve already gained a stone and counting 👍🏾😒😭} I am worried about labour, the drugs and still birth, and I am worried for my children for the rest of their lives; particularly girls – I worry they will be like me and have constant battles. Battles with their mental health. Battles with people and “friends”. Battles with hitting puberty and having periods etc. And yes, this is all before I’ve even conceived!

Beautiful yummy mummy I’m unlikely to look like 😆

I will just finish up with this – If someone had told me as a teenager all this would be going on with all the people and objects up my vjayjay and that I’d be shoving my own fingers up my hooha to get a pessary as deep as possible I’d have laughed in your face! Now, when it comes to having my ovaries/womb scanned I often find myself stripped off and on the bed with my legs spread before the nurse can even lock the door… I’ve not even gone through the (often described) “indignity” of birth yet but I couldn’t be any less bothered about who sees my bits…!! Infertility is certainly “useful” in reducing naked-body-embarrassment, that’s for sure!

Thank you to all our friends and family who have supported us, joined in the giggles and stories so far and generally kept me laughing and happy.. one of my favs (received after our IUI procedure) from my lovely friend is below.. because I still laugh out loud at it and so the world needs to laugh at it too and it needs to be treasured forever 😂😘


Come on spermies!!!

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6 thoughts on “The Fertility Giggles (Part 2)

  1. Pingback: Fertility | myBlog

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