I was given the one final injection of human chorionic gonadotropin, commonly referred to simply as HCG, which was soon followed by the momentous culmination of the whole long involved process: the intrauterine insemination.
No romantic dinner, long-stemmed roses, smooth wine, or flickering candlelight preceded this event. Instead it was a date with a cold sterile room, bright overhead lights, and awkward stirrups. It didn't matter. Nothing could dampen our spirits because we knew that science and humans had given their best efforts, and now the results ultimately lay in God's hands. It was as if we had just run a grueling relay race, the baton had been passed, and the finish line was finally in our sight. As I lay there looking at the ceiling, I prayed, "Please, Lord, let me get pregnant."
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