A close friend of mine recently confided that she is about to embark on her first Clomid cycle to try to get pregnant via donor IUI. She's married with three stepchildren, and her husband has had a vasectomy that he doesn't want to reverse. He didn't even really want to have another child, but I think the ongoing discussions and his awareness of how important this has become to her won him over. They are already great parents. They deserve one more.
I couldn't be happier and more scared for her. Her cycles are irregular and her ovulation not yet confirmed. She's in her early- to nearly-mid-thirties and hasn't seen the test results from her day 3 FSH yet. She is currently sorting through candidate profiles for her baby daddy sperm from the donor bank. I want this to work for her straight away, so badly. But I know the statistics. Even if her ladybits all check out fine, IUI has an iffy track record for even the most fertile of women. Still, this is her best chance. She can't afford IVF.
I'm glad I can cheer her on, knowing exactly what she is going through and what she may be facing. The promise, the hope, the anxiety, the Clomid monster, the fear of disappointment. The sting of failure. Or, if all goes well, the glorious celebration of success.
Come on, universe. Hook a sister up.