just awful. period.

This is a post about a period. It is long. It has a lot of TMI.

My body is waging something fierce like Jihad in my pants.  This has never really been my experience in the 18 years that I have “officially” been a woman.  Aside from bad cramps, it has been light, predictable and uneventful.

You know how my period was 13 days late a little while back?  My nurse coordinator at my IVF clinic is ready to prepare my transfer for November-ish, so she is setting up a tentative calendar in the meantime.  I need to start on birth control after my next period. My nurse says that I will get my period Monday- I was like, “um nurseypants, remember how I was 13 days late? I wont get in until like the last day in September.”  She said, “I think your body will catch up.”  This made me do a little eyeroll over the phone and then I hung up.  I know my body.  I will get my next period 30-33 days from when I got it last. 

I know that you know where this is going, but don’t spoil it!

Yesterday, A and I decided to have a fun day at the North Shore.  It’s on the other side of Oahu and it is such a different vibe from the Honolulu side of the island.  It is very agricultural and slower paced and the beaches aren’t taken over with tourists. (sorry, tourists)  We even decided to leave Norman the dog at doggie daycare so we didn’t have to worry about managing him or his many needs at all!  This was going to be a care free day!  Maybe we would even enjoy it so much that we would come home and have some sexual relations!  IF I was drunk enough, duh.

We drove to this one beach park where you can’t take dogs.  I’s called Waimea Bay.  You can google it.  It is serene (in the Summer) and just beautiful and we once heard whales under the water when we were there on vacation a few years back. Did you hear me? HEARD. WHALES.  It was pure magic.  We found a nice spot and I started to strip down to my bikini.  I unbuttoned my shorts and pulled them down.

Full on period disaster situation in my pants.

Did I mention they were white, short shorts?

I just stood there for a good 15 seconds with my jaw dropped.  how did I not feel this happening?

I got my towel and put it around me while saying, “uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh” a lot. I peeked inside my bikini bottom. No way.  howwwwww? A was all, “Ummmmmmmmmm” while I was like, “errrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr”

Wrapped up in my towel and donning my beach bag, I start up the hot, sandy hill towards the lovely beach park restroom (I have been able to avoid these crackhouses for most of my time in Hawaii with proper planning, thank God)

Right then, a squall moved through and it started absolutely pouring.  People were screaming and running towards the bathrooms where there was some shelter.  Masses of women were running inside the changing area.  Woman after woman; beating me to the door.  Finally I get in there and find a stall.  It’s so disgusting I just stand there for a minute. Everything is wet.  I mean there isn’t even a hook on the door for my bag, so I am absolutely stuck. Finally, I wince; having no choice but to set my adorable Rosanna ikat beach bag on the wet, sandy, pee pee cement floor of the public beach bathroom stall. I actually started to cry.  Then, I did that thing where I find a way to blame infertility. You know, “If I was PREGNANT like I WANTED TO BE, I wouldn’t be having periods ALL OVER THE PLACE!!!!”

This morning.  I am sleeping in. It’s so nice. I am so comfortable in my bed that I could stay there until noon.  Then I feel a gush. You have got to be kidding me.  I am leaking again. I have never been a leaker.  I blame IVF.  I give up.  My body is not my own. I BARELY make it to the bathroom in time. There is another pair of underwear I throw into the sink to clean. I think that is like my 4th casualty in less than 24 hours.

We go to the beach.  Day 2 is never as heavy as day 1. I put in a “super” and that should last me HOURS.  I had been there for 20 minutes to spot A while he surfed when I feel another gush. This has to be some kind of joke. I peek down under a towel. My black bikini bottoms are saturated and within a half an hour after that, there is blood on my beach chair. But there is nothing I can do.  I am not pulling A out of the water to go home when we had just gotten there. He would be so pissed.  I wait it out.  Finally, after about an hour and a half, A comes out of the water and I’m all “we gotta go!” and he is all “Are you kidding me with this?”

Since I had been sitting there for a long time in my own mess, I knew that when I stood up, gravity was going to get me in trouble, but I knew that my towel as a barrier would save me from public humiliation. I walked down the beach as if I had a something stuck up my ass while simultaneously making weird faces and grunting every time I sensed activity. so awkward.

When I got home, I went straight to the shower.  It looked like a scene from a movie- you know, shower is on, the water is running clear and then… all of a sudden…a crime has been committed.  My bikini bottoms were that bad. Thank God I wore the black ones.

I step out of the shower when I’m done and see that A has let Norman in the bathroom with me while he makes a grocery run.  He is sleeping co-dependently on the bathmat in the middle of our tiny bathroom. I dry off and work around him but it isn’t easy- I can’t wake him up! He’s a little baby!  Since he is blocking the front of the toilet, I decided to put my tampon in standing with one leg up on the toilet.  Well, I don’t know if it was gravity or having a “heavy” moment, but I lost my grip for a nano second and that sucker (plastic applicator kind) came shooting out of me like a rocket and it landed right on my fucking dog!! Now there is blood on his white fur! He is brown, white and black, but of course it landed on a white part!  How am I going to explain this to A? ” Oh yeah so our dog has period blood staining his coat. normal thing. just happens.”  Norman is a Basset Hound. 2nd best nose in the canine kingdom. So he is jarred awake and is like “Someone BBQ’n?” and I’m like “DON’T EAT THAT PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!”  At this point I am begging, “SERENITY NOW!!!!” as I put the missile tampon in the trash and wipe up the blood on our white bathroom tile from when it ricochet off my dog’s body.

So here is the pending  score:

white shorts- 0

Pink bikini bottoms- 0

beach towel day 1-0

underwear-0

PJ bottoms-0

another pair of undies- 0

black bikini bottoms-0

beach towel day 2- 0

folding beach chair- 0

Norman – 0

Period- 10

Let’s hope tomorrow is better.

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fert report!

“you really nailed IVF.”
“I know.”

First I want to start this post with a status update that my friend did today.  We met her (and her husband) through mutual friends on a wine tasting weekend about 3 years ago.  Somehow the conversation turned to kids when the 4 of us were in a car together and it came to light that we had all been “trying” for about a year.  Awesome, new friends to bond with over infertility.  It turns out that they would become pregnant later that month. (okay scratch that idea)  They just had their second about 2 months ago. (annoying)  Here is her status update for the morning:

“don’t know what was harder, dropping my 6 week old off at daycare or watching Grey holding onto her carseat crying “baby sister” as we brought her into the infant room! Today kind of sucks!”

what’s even weirder are some of her friend’s comments.  These are direct quotes:

Your right that would really sucks..sorry sweetie. (annoying misspell of “You’re”) (did I misspell “misspell?”)

Hugs.

ugh. you poor thing. i am sorry. thank god for wine and for saturdays. love you.

Sending you hugs!

WHAT!?

BOO FUCKING HOOOOOO.  Um, I’m sorry- did she just tell everyone she had cancer? No.  She did not.  Clearly someone forgot how they felt when they were trying for a year.   Darn, you have a 6 week old baby and a toddler who loves her.  Tough luck. This evil part of me really wants to passive aggressively, but subtly, publicly shame her. lots of adverbs there.   It’s just… ugh….I wish people would think of people like me who are sitting there reading this rolling their eyes before they post stupid shit.  But of course, no one thinks of infertiles. ever. Because they are living the dream with their freedom, ability to travel, eat out, and have nights of glorious, uninterrupted sleep. Oh and the Sex.  the amazzzzziiinnnnng sex.

So for the juicy stuff.  We had 24 mature eggs out of the 34 retrieved.  By the day after retrieval, we had 14 that fertilized.  They were also going to re-ICSI 5 that hadn’t fertilized the first day, but had faith in.

On day 3, we had about 9 from the first batch that were dividing well- 7 or more cells, and the other 5 had all fertilized from the second batch. (!)  Day 5/6, yesterday, we were told that in all, 6 had made it to blast and were frozen.  At first, we were really confused about how we could go from 19 fertilized to only 6 frozen, but after I did some research, it became very clear that we are LUCKY to have 6 blasties to transfer!  I am still nervous about the FET thing and how that all goes, but we have 6 tries with top notch embryos and we are so grateful for that.  We will schedule an appointment with our doctor sometime next week for a follow-up so that we can get some more information from him about the journey our embryos took to get to where they are today.  Two nights ago, ironically,  A had kickball at a park directly across the street from our clinic.  It was crazy to us that our kids were in there.  “Our family is in that building.” we kept saying.  “That’s so fricken weird.  I mean… that is crazy.”  If his teammates only knew, that for two people at that park, an entire future was in a freezer across the street. nuts.

So yeah.  Now I have some more time to think of 2 vs. 1.  More time to eat well, and drink less. More time more time more time.  Though I think that we are some of the only people who have celebrated a successful first half of IVF by drinking some champs! Hell yeah, I did that!  If there is no transfer, this girl is poppin’ corks while she can!

bloated

Sweet heavens, I am so bloated. I am so, so bloated. I feel like that blue girl from willy wonka. I am drinking coconut water and gatorade but for crying in the night, I did not anticipate this level of discomfort! People online were complaining about the bloating from “so many eggs (12)” so you can only imagine how 34 refilling follicles are making me feel. I am not complaining as I am so grateful that I had 34, but i am sorta paying the price right now! (Okay i guess i am fully complaining) It’s like someone stuck a needle in me and started pumping an air pump. and wont stop. let’s see if it is going to explode!! Anyway, any tips for making that better? I can barely walk! I am so looking forward to going to work tomorrow and dealing with the public! NOT. I say we bring “not” back. Also,”booyah.”

Here is the good news. I have 14 babies. 🙂 I could cry. Of my 34 eggies, 24 were mature and 14 fertilized overnight. Now, I know that number can change, so I am keeping my expectations in check, but I can’t help but smile and pinch myself today. A cried when I called him at work and told him our numbers yesterday. It was so sweet. We just cant believe that after 3.5 years of trying hard for a baby, and 12 years of being together, that there is something out there right now in existence that is a combination of Us. Him….and me. Wow. It’s just unbelievable. Just knowing that is almost enough. We will see how the next few days go… Fingers crossed that not too much changes…. We are feeling pretty lucky! We’ve been just walking around the house and high-fiving, or, if we aren’t together, we text each other, “babe. We have 14 kids.” “Babe. We have so many children. More than brangelina.” “Babe, we have an excess of spawn.” “awesome.”

This has been a good reminder to keep the faith, as I honestly never thought we would even get this far! I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but it feels good to feel good for once. I am going to enjoy feeling good. Except, you know, for the fact that I just l might spontaneously combust out of my gut. ‘Cept for that.

retrieval day for a fake whore

I survived!

I know that you have just been waiting all day to hear about ME with bated breath- I mean…I have an infertility blog so I am really a big deal, right? I know.

If any of you haven’t done a retrieval yet, you really should not worry- it was such a snap!  A and I got up bright and early- he popped up as soon as his alarm went off and I asked, “no wet dream!?” He answered with a peppy “no!” Then we fist-pounded.   awwwww yeahhhhhh.

I stripped to change into the gown and surprised A when he saw that I wore my lucky undies.  They are fiery red boy short Hanky Pankies with A’s name on them in Swarovski crystals.  I got them with his mom which is super weird, when we went to Nordstrom one time together. There was a “buy a boy short, get a free name on them!” special. Heck yeah! She bought some too, with my father-in law’s name on them.  (barf) A was weirded out by the whole thing. I think it’s hilarious.

Anywho. I got in my nightie, put on some fluffy socks and crawled in under the sheet.  Since this is Hawaii and everyone but us is Japanese or of Japanese descent, I wasn’t surprised when a sweet Japanese woman came in to prep my IV.  Except she was not totally fluent in English, which was a little disconcerting to me in a hospital environment, especially when she and my coordinator were struggling through their communication right there in front of me.  It was like egg retrieval “Who’s on First?”

As she was prepping my IV, I was a little omg because an IV is so REAL you know?  shit’s legit! Before she put in the needle, she said in her adorable little accent:

“Rittle bit of pain. Soh-Ree! hee hee hee hee hee heee”

Ugh she was so cute but seriously don’t laugh like that while telling me you will be causing me pain. Still, though she was adorable.  all was forgiven.

I awkwardly tinkled while twisted up in my IV tubes, kissed A goodbye and walked straight into the room where the procedure would be done. I put my feet in stirrups and waited.  Hottie anesthesiologist (probably a surfer) walks in as happy as a clam.  One of the nurses quickly hid my crotch from him. Don’t you worry sister, I cleaned up down there. Things are looking gooooooood.

We chat, I flirt a little. Yep I flirted with my anesthesiologist while lying on a gurney trying to make children with a man I ALREADY have and love. Whoops! I also forgot that I was makeup-less and in an over-sized hairnet and lacked serious game.  My RE walked in and wasted no time shoving something up me. I remember saying “Whoa, hey..” Then, lights out.

I woke up in my little recovery nook confused. as. hell. A and my nurse were laughing and smiling. I thought I was just waking up but apparently I had been up for about 15 mins talking absolute nonsense. I was told that I was basically doing standup during my procedure and had everyone in the OR laughing. I didn’t understand that because I thought I was supposed to be asleep. Apparently, I didn’t want to sleep, I wanted to chat.  about college. They were worried that I wasn’t out enough because I was so chatty, that they had to give me more drugs than normal just to shut me up.  Here is the hilarious thing though. I was obsessed with one topic in particular.

The Clapper.

Yes, I wanted to talk about how I used to have The Clapper in College. (I guess I referred to College a lot, much like the Band Camp girl from American Pie.)

W.    T.     F.

If you are not familiar with The Clapper, watch this and you will remember very quickly. Who can forget Grandma at the end!?

So, in College, my friend and I had one of those in our dorm room and it was really hilarious to have.  at first.  Then, since we were animated talkers, (yellers) we would have lights going on and off all night long as we did our homework and yelled about whatever.

Anyway, I guess that 14 year old memory resurfaced mid-retrieval and I wouldn’t let it go.

Also, since the topic of College had come up, “My hay day” as I continued to refer to it, I also made a joke that went terribly.

terribly for everyone but me because remember,  I was hiiiiiigh as a kite! I guess when someone in recovery asked me about college again, I said, while looking at A, “did you tell them about all my sexual partners?” and did a little wink, wink, nudge nudge.

EXCEPT………

…That A is the only man I have ever been with! So, I totally lied! I lied about being a HO! And it was so awkward for A because he wanted to be like “That’s not true” but then the poor guy would look like the truth was coming out on him right there in front of all those people and he would look pathetic.  Everyone looked down and pretended to go over paperwork. I mean why would I say that!?!?!!?  What a weirdo!  I also mentioned Celebrity Gossip, which only makes sense. Bravo is basically on a running loop in my house when A isn’t home.

Anyway, the good stuff.  My doctor slipped his head through the curtain as I was recovering and asked if they had told us our egg count yet.

“No!” we both said with anticipation. Then he did a little proud thingy with his eyebrows.

34.

34 eggs, whaaaa? I can’t believe it. I feel really lucky. I am cautiously optimistic about what tomorrow brings.  I have no expectations.  Trying not to think about it too much, but you can’t help but wonder.  This is the part that we have been waiting for all these years.  Will the end-all-be-all magical and wondrous ICSI do the trick?

We will have to wait and see….

Clap off.

serenity now

why me.

why

why

why

why.

Well, here I am on the eve of my retrieval.  I feel a little nervous- more than anything for the IV. Isn’t that weird? The last time I was “under,” I was in 8th grade getting teeth pulled that would prepare me to move forward with getting braces. When they put me under, the needle for the IV felt like a million rabid wasps ripping through my skin and I will never forget the terror my 14 year old self felt.  Also, I puked in the waiting room after trying to communicate through a drooling, puffy face that I didn’t feel well. All I could do was mumble in a puddle of my own mess right there in front of strangers.

I have responded really well to my stims.   I did my trigger shot last night and I am feeling great!  The last 12 days have been great and I have had no side effects from any of this and I was beginning to wonder if anything was actually going on in there.  I haven’t slept very well, but I honestly think that is because I live in Hawaii, sleep with a man, and have no A/C.  I have about 25 follicles and hopefully a lot of them will have mature eggs.  I do feel really lucky there.  My uterine lining was at a 10 at the beginning of the process when they usually hope for an 8 by the end.  Again, feeling really lucky.

Yesterday, I had one last ultrasound.  My doctor said, “did we talk about your progesterone?”  ummmmmmmm no.  “yeah,” he says.  “It is a little high so your bloodwork today will tell us where we need to go from here.”

Where we need to go from here? how about a retrieval and a transfer and a pregnancy and a gorgeous blonde baby with olive skin as planned yousonofabitch!

He explained that if my progesterone level goes past a “2,” we will have to postpone the transfer. I was at a 1.7 already. shit.  I did my bloodwork and went on with my day, knowing I would get a call from my innocent angel face coordinator who I can’t ever be angry around because she is a little tender flower baby cloud butterfly lamby sparklekins.  A decided to work from home in case we were told we couldn’t transfer.  He said he wanted to be there for me- the thought of me crying home alone was too sad.  If he only knew that I have been doing this for the last 4 years, he would have built a home office!

I was at the grocery store and A was at the Starbucks next door since the lawn guys had arrived and working from home was too noisy.   She called.  And because I have bad news radar with everything, I immediately knew. and she confirmed it- I was at a 2.6. My body was responding so well to the production of follies, that it got ahead of itself and would unlikely result in a pregnancy.  No transfer.  No June baby.  No Finally grateful for a baby at Thanksgiving. No exciting Christmas announcement.  No not-too-big-7-month age difference between cousins. no adorable 4 month old at Halloween.  No June 1st celebratory chant of “It’s OUR birthday month!, It’s our birthday month!” I had already planned doing something fun and obnoxious to the rest of the family to kickoff mother/daughter birthday month (for some reason my June baby is a girl)

JUST.  MORE.  WAITING.

A got off a work call and came into the store to find me right as I was hanging up.  He shouted my name, I turned around and gave him a pout and a thumb’s down.  He collapsed his head and elbows onto a stack of boxes in the aisle. As I approached him, he had tears in his eyes. We stood there for a minute while he processed and I noticed later as we walked away that the boxes he was slumped over were boxes of diapers.  Ha.

Remember those embryology lab renovations we were trying to avoid?

Two. More. Months.

This was one thing I never anticipated.  A canceled cycle.  Once you start IFV, you FINISH IT DON’T YOU GOD DAMNIT!?  Apparently not.  We are doing all of the work this month with none of the reward.  We were doing HALF of an IFV and then stopping.

TOTAL.  BUZZ.  KILL.

Its not even that exciting anymore, going into the retrieval tomorrow. I mean, the wind is just totally out of my sails.  I am still curious about how many mature eggs we will get and how any fertilize, but you know…I wanted a shot at a fresh transfer.  Now my babies will be on ice.  (shiver) weird.

I know they are doing the best thing- not wasting an embryo when it doesn’t really have a shot.  I am grateful for that. They are setting us up for success! But seriously, I can feel it in my body, how hard waiting the next two months will be. FET’s scare me.  How can they work, HOW? I know they do, but just HOW.

For today, I just need to get past the fear that A will have a wet dream- middle school style tonight, because he has been “holding it” for 5 days for retrieval day.  I will surely kick him in the nads if he does, I swear.

2 twin or not 2 twin

This looks not fun. Look at that mom. She hates it! or maybe she is mad about what she did to her hair? either way! All bad things!

Okay, this is a cry for help.  We are heavy into the twin discussion.  Something I never thought I would have to think about let alone DECIDE on.

Twins.  They scare the living shit out of me.  I have actively NOT wanted twins ever since I thought about having kids and looooong before A and I started trying.  No way, I would say.  I would kill myself.  I have actually said that.  I would kill myself.  Well, here we are in that place where we are trying to decide….. do we risk it?

I have no idea what to do.  I don’t want to be stupid and waste this opportunity…. But I am so scared that if we chose to transfer two embryos (assuming we have two)  they will BOTH implant and then I am royally fucked. (and completely NOT fucked- you know what I mean)  I don’t want to be a mommy who will be miserable and overwhelmed and frazzled!  I don’t want to feel that way.  I want calm. controlled. orderly. (ish) I feel like I am entitled to, after all the years of sadness, a happy little life with ONE cooing babe.

Also, this is going to sound really stupid… But I am skinny.  I have always been a thin girl.  I’m about 5’7″ and I weigh 118 pounds. I just look at myself and wonder how can THIS (pointing to myself)  withstand twins without looking like Sloth from Goonies when the pregnancy is all said and done!?  I know that is vain.  Well you know what? I’m a little vain. I’ll own that.  I know two big boned beautiful friends who have had twins this year.  But they were built for that shit.  I am not.  Can skinny people do this?  like well?  I mean I have already defied nature at that point, so you can’t use the argument that we are built for this. I feel like maybe some of you are mad at me right now.

But honestly it is less about my body and more about my psychological serenity.  I just really want one. That would be the choice I would make, if I could make the choice today.  But….. then comes that weighing of sides; the pros and cons- from the financial standpoint.  If this is our only shot- our one lifetime insured IVF, then we should put 2 in there, right?  I mean that would be our family if they both stayed!  But If I have some more good embryos, then what about trying one at a time later with an FET?  at $4k a shot. (if we stayed in Hawaii. There is no telling what an FET would cost if we went back home to Seattle- I’m guessing billions?) We should try for two now then, right? it’s only logical.  smart.  wise. But I can’t turn off what is in my heart- I’m scared I can’t do it. I want to parent with Grace. I’m scared I won’t like it because it’s just too damn hard. I don’t want to wish my twins away like those a-holes from that babble article. (but having said that- a little piece of me sort of understood some of what they were saying. Don’t be mad at me!)

Were any of you scared of twins?  How did you make the decision to risk it or not risk it?  I need help! I want to hear all viewpoints. Link me to other blogs that may be helpful.  Lentil, I saw those bony feet in that one photo you posted- I know you had to be thinking about these things!

Retrieval day is looking like Tues or Wed, so I have a week and a half to make this decision!

go time

I don’t even know where to start for this week. Holy Heck, it’s been wilder than Mr. Toad’s wild ride!!

Last we spoke, I was waiting for that period. Well, guess what. It never came. Oh wait, yes it did, but it was 13 days late. 13 Muther fricken days. Such B.S! After I took my HPT and got a BFFN, I emailed my IVF coordinator about 2 days later.

Me: “Hi- I still don’t have my period, I didn’t forget about IVF, promise! haha”

Nurse: “Hi. We need you to get your period by tomorrow night in time to do this cycle or we will have to wait until the embryology lab is done with its renovations after October.”

ME: WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!!!! followed by a lot of crying.

I called A in a sobbing, hot panic. We had come so far, my period was inexplicably 11 days late at that point and I was pretty darn sure I wasn’t pregnant. Now, after delaying doing it in August to be nice to my boss who needed the coverage, here we were finally starting this and I had 1 day to get an already late period or we would have to wait at least 2 more months. Talk about pressure.

Now I don’t blame my coordinator/nurse- she is like a sweet, tender little butterfly, but maybe communicating that to me more than, oh I dont know, the day before my life was going to come crashing down around me, would have been helpful. A wrote her an email that basically said, “OH GOD PLEASE. PLEASE NO PLEASE DONT DO THIS TO US WE ARE BEGGING PLEASE DEAR LORD PLEASE.”

She finally called me and said she didn’t want to add stress to this cycle and that she felt badly and that I should come in and we would do bloodwork and an ultrasound to see what’s up.

We went in bright an early in the morning. On the way there I was feeling nervous…. still unsure if I was maybe pregnant, but also just afraid they would tell me it’s too late. Then my ass started talking. I suddenly had the urge…. you know…. I was going to shit my pants in our car. This has happened to me the two other times I have gone. I get nervous and then I have butt problems. I have a pretty timely morning poo anyway, so scheduling these appointments in the AM after telling me to have a nice breakfast is a recipe for disaster. Add nerves to that and we are in business. Nasty business. I was gripping the door handle and begging God to make it stop. It didn’t. A looked at me in horror and disgust. We got to the lobby and I searched for a bathroom. Found one. Oh no but you need a key- I basically yelled an obscenity and a nice janitor was right there and let me in. I had massive issues let’s just say and I was mortified that I would have to get in stirrups and spread my legs for a man I barely knew within 5 minutes. Oh God, what if there are remnants!?!?!? I went back and forth between my stall and the sink collecting paper towels and soaping them and then taking them back to homemade Cottonelle myself. Horrible.

Well. after he pulled out the bloody wand during my trans vag ultrasound, I knew things were going to happen any second- but we still may have been too late. My bloodwork would later confirm that I was not pregnant and that my period was imminent. But basically the bloody wand told me that.

Is this getting too long?

Deal with it.

So then after all that they decided to forgo birth control and start me on my injections right away. OH MY GOD! Yeah, so we went in for our baseline appointment yesterday and learned how to do injections. A asked stupid questions that embarrassed me. But that is to be expected. It wasn’t as bad as when he asked if they go through my butt to retrieve eggs. I don’t even know. I just don’t.

We had friends in town to visit us so that was both horrible timing and good timing. It was nice to be distracted and be around people who love us and support us. We also missed a half day of only 3 days we had with them because we were running around clinics and pharmacies. (who told us they didn’t have enough of one medication to get me through the next 6 days) to which I Seattle passive-aggressively said, “FIND ENOUGH, BITCH”

So do you want to know how my shots went? Well, I barely could sit through dinner with our friends in which we went to a sports bar so that A and his buddy could watch their beloved UW Huskies. I was a nervous wreck. I had read that Menopur really burned and I was scared. I don’t like pain. I avoid it, always.

After what seemed like 20 hours of just getting all my crud organized- I am mixing 8 Vials, (Menopur and Brevelle) people– it finally came time. I iced it, (which I am maybe not allowed to do- I didn’t ask) moment of truth…… welI… I felt….. nothing.

BOOM, Mutha Fuckhas! NAILED IT!

Here is my theory- 1) I iced it perfectly, or 2) I had so much adrenaline from needle-induced terror, that I was rendered numb from my eyebrows to my toes. But it was nothing. Did I feel some burning? a little, but it was seriously nothing. The needle wasn’t even bad at all and I am a total needle phobe. When I got my nose pierced, it took me three times to even walk into the place. Granted, it was called “Slave to the Needle,” so that wasn’t very encouraging for this Christian school girl.

Anyway, we’re doing it! It’s happening! It happened two weeks earlier than originally planned but I love it! Yes, my work calendar came out the day before this started with the last half of Sept accommodating me, so that will be fun to change around- but oh well- I gotta do what I gotta do! I am learning to let go of control! But in the mean time, I will find control somehow- I had to create a nice IVF station. I have a problem- I can’t stand ugly things. Stuff needs to be cute and organized.  Laugh at me all you want but…….. I can’t think of a comeback actually.

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Look at all that just look at it!

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IVF Station. You can toast a bagel or you can make some eggs! (har har)

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mason jars for syringes, needles and Q-Caps. I am so awesome.

Oops!  How did that get there!? Okay, so this is a pic of my cat with her head in the toilet and its really cute.

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