The deal is done. 22 million sperm are now elbows & tripping their way up my fallopian tubes hoping to find an egg (or two. Eek!)
It went well. I slept poorly and woke early which is unlike me, but I think it was just nerves. Traffic was bad, but fortunately David went straight there while I took Robbie to daycare and since his portion was needed before I was, the timing worked out well.
I still don't just love her new nurse. I mean, she's nice enough, but just not the old nurse. She actually had the nerve to give me the "It just takes one" speech. I HATE THAT SPEECH. First of all, it's simply not true. Second of all, I know how this works, I don't nee the explanation. Lastly, well, it's not true! But whatever. Twenty two million is a great number, particularly for us. There was no pain at all. I laid there letting the swimmer find their way and David mostly grinned.
It really amazes me how bright and hopeful he is about all of this. He just smiled and asked what we were going to name the baby. I couldn't help but smile back. I wish I felt so unencombered by worry.
At this point I don't know if I'm more worried it won't work or that it will. I mean, if it works, then there comes the miscarriage worries, and what if it's twins (or more? OMG.), and then even if we managed to make it to the 2nd trimester with one baby- the point where most people start to breathe a little easier- my worry is just beginning. I never made it out of the 2nd trimester with Robbie. Preeclampsia. Prematurity. The NICU. There's just so much to worry about.
I'm trying very hard to stay distracted. If I find myself with a knot in my belly, trying to plan how we'll care for Robbie and a baby in the NICU, I stop and do something else. I know that worrying changes nothing. But I think the anxiety section of my brain is overdeveloped. I don't know how to just turn it off.
But there is hope, too. I had a vision of me delivering a full term baby, crying as I heard him cry for the first time in the delivery room. This morning when I dropped Robbie off at school, it was early. He was the only student from his room there, so they took him over to the infant room. I watched to see if you had any inesterest in the babies, hoping he'd decide he'd like a little brother or sister. He paid no attention at all, more excited by a room full of toys he's never played with. But at least he didn't cry.
Hoping that in 9 months (not 6, thank you) we'll see how he really feels about babies, but this time in his own house.