On Friday, I got a surprising phone call. The initial set had all come back normal, which I already knew from a previous call from her nurse. That particularly phone call had been frustrating. This is not Nurse Awesome that I had when we were working towards Robbie, but someone new. She seemed doubtful that I could know that I ovulated without an OPK. She wanted to tell me when to have a progesterone check and simply didn't seem to believe that I had ovulated the day before. She not-so-gently encouraged me to continue testing. I told her I would but that I'd been at this for about 5 years now and I knew I had ovulated. That was met with silence. She was not a believer. I was mildly annoyed, but as I already had my lab order for a progesterone check, I really didn't need her to trust me, so I let it go. This call from Dr. K was about my progesterone and about David's sperm count.
It pleased me that Dr. K called herself. It always catches me by surprise, but in a good way. I also have to chuckle when she calls herself by her first name, almost seeming to insinuate I should to. The doctors in the NICU were the same way. They'd ask me if "Gary" told me about yesterday's results, or if I'd seen "Bill" today. I respect all of these doctors far too much to call them by their first names. There have been a few that I'd gladly call Dr. Bitchy to their faces, but not these. They should be sir or ma'am or doctor, period. (You know, except when I was having impure dreams about a certain one of them. Ahem.)
Anyway, my progesterone was an unsurprising 6.2. Ovulatory but not great- the same as it always was. Dr. K even told me that her nurse had been skeptical that I knew I had ovulated. I laughed and told her I could tell that on the phone. She said that she reassured her that I did know what I was talking about and if I said I ovulated, I did. "She just doesn't know you like I do." Have I mentioned how much I love Dr. K?
I reminded her that OPKs had never done much for me. We reminisced about the first time she got me pregnant, on Thanksgiving day 2006. They wanted a positive OPK then and it wasn't happening, even though I knew I was ovulating. Dr. K was at another clinic then, and I really liked her nurse there. She did believe me that I knew what I was talking about and told me to come on in. Dr. K showed up in jeans and a casual shirt, her hair still wet from the shower. We had to wait for security to let us in- we were the only people in the entire medical complex that day. While sperm scurried their way up my tubes, ultimately finding an egg, I laid with my knees bent comparing sweet potato casserole recipes with Dr. K. That pregnancy had a sad ending 4 years ago last week, but in rehashing its beginning with Dr. K, it was a happy memory.
Then we discussed David's sperm count. This is where the surprise came. It was good. No, actually, it was great. A grand total of 62 million motile sperm. Considering the month before I got pregnant with Robbie, his count was 250,000, that was....well.... let's say unexpected. "Whatever you're feeding him, keep doing it," she said. So, I'm ovulating, even if moderately, and he's making sperm. But we've been goalie-free for 33 months, so now what?
We won't know the answer until my HSG is done. Dr. K is still concerned about scarring to my uterus. The lab results seemed to add to that concern. There are two choices, depending on the outcome of the HSG. If it's normal, 25mg Clomid and 3-4 cycles of IUI. If it's not- IVF.
Today is CD1, so I called to schedule my HSG. It will be next Thursday the 27th. The lab tech is supposed to give me the results on site, so next Thursday, we'll have a plan. If Clomid wins, we'll probably have our next insemination the last day of February or first of March. Suddenly that seems really soon. I'm taking my handful of pills (extra folic acid, prenatal, baby aspirin, Metformin) each day. It's on.