The beta on Monday confirmed what we already knew on Sunday - negative. I'm disappointed, of course, but seeing that sadness and satisfaction in Christ can co-exist. If continued infertility is how God is going to receive the most glory from my life, I'm resigned to persevere in this trial.
So today I went in for my CD3 ultrasound. I warned the nurse that I expected cysts, as I've ended up with anywhere from one to four cysts after almost every single previous medicated cycle. The nurse sweetly said that she chose to think I'd be cyst-free this time around. But this morning I blew my own record out of the waters. As soon as the nurse began the ultrasound, she murmured in shock and asked if I was in any pain. Then she started typing measurements. A lot of measurements. Just guess how many cysts I have.
Eight on the right ovary, four on the left, some as big as 4 cm.
I'm an ova-achiever. (Ba dum bum CHING.)
So now I've got a prescription for BCP to suck the life out of all those cysts. Hopefully, they'll all be gone by my next cycle so that we can do another IUI in June. In the meantime, I think I'll enjoy the recovery break, and I'll avoid any twisting, jumping, or abdominal exercises!