"100 miles south of Dallas"

The second IUI was completed an hour ago. I called my lovely husband while laying in the darkened room, hips propped up, waiting the obligatory "15 minutes" before leaving. (which, I asked why, as this has been proven to not do anything. And the nurse said "oh, we know - it just makes out patients feel better about it." heh.) First thing I asked was "where are you" and the answer was "oh, about 100 miles south of Dallas". So ~if~ on the slight chance I go get pregnant this cycle, I wanted to know exactly where my husband was at the moment of conception. THAT will go in the baby book.

Stats seemed okay from the frozen sample. 17 million w/ 68% motility. That's a grand total of 11.6 million men in there, trying to find 2 eggs. Yup. I let go of those two beautiful eggs.

The 3rd follicle was presently sitting at 17x18mm (up from 15x15 yesterday). The RE said he couldn't quite tell me what was happening with it.
~ It could have grown big enough, released and is now collapsing.
~ It could have just grown to this size from yesterday and could still release within the next day.
~ It could have just grown to this size from yesterday and it just going to shrink back down (which is the most likely option)

My lining was up to 8.1 - ~much~ better. I'm to take the estradiol for 3 more days. Then the progesterone test in 7 days and then of course, the beta in 14.

The second insemination was not scheduled, as I had obviously already ovulated, so a 2nd insemination tomorrow would essentially be too late. We were, however, told to do a bunch of "homework".

It was strange today. Just knowing my husband was so far away, not even thinking of the insemination, made it awkward. I wished I could of been on the phone with him during the IUI, but he's in the car with some buddies in Texas, so that would of been uncomfortable for him. I just hope that my hope alone was enough. I sat and watched the miracle of anatomy happening, as we watched, under ultrasound, at my tubes "sucking up the sperm" (my RE's words) and all I could do was quietly hope underneath all the science.