When I feel alone

Why is it, that when you go through IVF, you feel so alone? I know most people don’t talk about it and some people feel ashamed by it. But really….why do I feel alone?

I thought I had the support from my friends, and loved ones…then you start to feel like a burden. You feel like people can’t understand what you are going though, the constant emotional state you feel, the pain from drugs, soreness from procedures.

Yes, I know, I signed up for this. I did. I wanted it. But to hear your own husband doubt when you should or shouldn’t be resting because he’s ‘had it with the kids’, is shitty to say the least. Coming into the bedroom to ask how I’m feeling as a segway into asking when the bed rest is over.

He’s going through the motions when it comes to the injections, and being half asleep when administering them to me. Like a zombie strolling in, giving me a shot and leaving…just like that. Telling me that if it doesn’t work, he doesn’t want to do it again…

THAT DOESN’T HELP! None of that helps. Be in it, with me, walk hand in hand with me. Side by side, this journey. I had him at a couple of the procedures, the water sonogram (which really hurt), and he was shocked when I asked him to come in the room with me. This isn’t 1950, what the hell did you think you were doing here? I know how to drive myself….of course you are here to go in the room with me, and support your wife. He drove me to all my procedures, the egg retrieval, the polyp removal, the embryo transfer…and all of them he didn’t think he’d be in there for. He planned on kissing me goodbye in the waiting room and seeing me when it was done. Excuse me? I have no idea where the lack of compassion on his part has come from, but not acceptable. He even asked me how long these procedures were going to take, because it was taking away from his workday. Sometimes I can’t believe the things that come out of his mouth.

So far, the egg retrieval has been the most painful and debilitating procedure and recovery. But the embryo transfer has been the most important, and I feel like my family is the least supportive of anyone. I texted all my friends that knew about it and they all sent their prayers, and well wishes, and I got such a lovely outpouring from them. Then there’s family…my in laws forgot this weekend was the weekend¬†and went out of town. Not even a text to see how I’m feeling, nothing…so weird. Then there’s my parents…my mother muttered something about ‘faking a pregnancy to get bed rest’…I couldn’t believe my ears…I’m like uh, don’t say that…

So here I am alone…feeling a tremendous amount of responsibility to keep this little embryo safe in me and the people I love the most give me the hardest time. Make me feel more alone. I ask my husband to read some stuff about it, see what I’m going through. He won’t. He doesn’t care. He only cares enough to bitch. He had to do the kids laundry this weekend because I obviously can’t and he’s been sure to bring that up plenty…I keep saying, welcome to my world, where I do 8-10 loads of laundry EVERY goddamn weekend. He mutters how he feels under appreciated and I found it hilarious! Men, do you really need an award for everything? I’m beginning to think so. I have actually tried to really build him up this weekend too, by telling him multiple times how much I appreciate him, those EXACT words…but does he remember? Not if it doesn’t support his claim that I’m being lazy and trying to get out of watching the kids and housework. I’M ON BED REST BECAUSE I JUST HAD AN EMBRYO TRANSFER, not because I just took the weekend off, dumbass.

So here I am, fuming that I feel so alone, that I feel like I should be more supported, and I’m not. My heart is racing, probably from all the drugs, and my anxiety and I’m pissed. I made the bedroom a heavenly sanctuary, where it’s all light and airy and peaceful, everything I wanted to feel while this life attaches to me, and he has come in here and spit on it. I’m pissed at his lack of compassion, I’m pissed at his lack of understanding, I’m pissed at his juvenile attitude, I’m pissed at his ignorance, and I’m pissed he’s making me feel guilty for doing this.

Am I a sadist?

So, I realize when I say this, it sounds a little odd. Maybe it’s the OCD in me, and the preparedness I’ve undergone to get to this point in the process, but for some reason, I find myself obsessed with my shots every day. I plan for them, prepare them, look forward to getting them done and checking another one off the list. For some, they may dread them, and think they are horrible, but for me, at this point, it is keeping me on track to my end goal, this baby girl.

I fear them so much, but deep down, I know they aren’t bad at all. I mean, the shots in my stomach sting sometimes, depending on what pain receptors are poked, and the insane bruising all over my tummy looks worse than it feels.

So far, I’m 9 shots into the PIO (progesterone in oil) and while one hurt a little more than the rest (and the blood geyser shows proof to that), I never feel them going in and barely feel anything at all. Every day, I wait, thinking this is going to be the day, the day I’m going to feel the poke or the oil or something…and nothing. Thank God.

I have my nerdy chart and I have a ticker going with the amount of times I’ve been poked up to this point in the process, I’m up to 78 pokes. Not so bad…I guess…considering I planned on getting upwards of 350 pokes…or so my research found. But, strangely, I look forward to them, they keep me grounded and remind me this is real. Remind me what I’m doing and the past year leading up to this point, seems like it prepared me for the mental torture of the needles.

What the past year did not prepare me for, was the emotional roller coaster of fear I’ve been on and can’t seem to get off of. I think this amusement park ride is destined to stay active until my baby girl is safe in my arms. I’ve feared everything from the actual needles, to the medicine, to the procedures, and then all the way to what if’s?, what if I don’t get a girl, what if it doesn’t work, yadda yadda yadda…it’ll drive you nuts, and nuts it has driven me!

Since my embryo transfer, I feel a twinge, I google it. What does that mean, am I pregnant? I google odds, and blogs and stories…I had a cramp, is that good? I know, I know, stay off the internet…I cannot do that. I just can’t. I can’t even try. The nurse even said in the lecture, after the transfer, you’re going to become very acutely aware of your body…do not call me and ask if the twinge you just felt means your pregnant…hahahahaha, because it’s so damn true. You are sitting/laying here thinking ONLY about this microscopic embryo curled up gently in your uterus…and hoping and praying it stays in the exact same spot until it’s 40 weeks old and read to meet you. Your brain is running a million miles a minute and all you keep coming back to is the worry and fear it won’t work.

Well, since I’m no stranger to signs, I feel like I will share a few I had the past few days…signs, that to me, tell me, just relax woman, it’ll work, stop stressing.

Sign #1: I had gone onto Instagram the night before last and started following a bunch of ‘baby’ related clothing pages, like Gap, Pottery Barn Kids, etc. In doing so, I got a flood of random people who wanted to ‘follow’ me. I do not let random people follow me unless I know you. I have pictures of my babies tushies and I won’t let strangers see that. So, I went one by one and looked at their pages…deleting each request as I went. Then I came to one that stopped me in my tracks…under ‘about me’ were the words “IVF Success (insert baby emoji)” I looked at it closer…why would that be in her about me, why is that even there, how did this person find me and why? Needless to say it’s been my mantra the last 24 hours and I began following her because, well, I like her pictures…lol…and no, I didn’t allow her to follow me.

Sign #2: I had just gotten my new Parents magazine and I love reading them cover to cover. Guilty pleasure I suppose. So I figured, while I’m laying here…I guess I’ll start reading it. I open it up to the first page I can read and the headline is “Savannah’s Stories”. Well, that is baby girls name…I think to myself…thank you for the midday reminder to chill out. But the day wained on and my fears crept into my mind again…google google google…what does this mean, what does that mean…and I decide it’s time to go to bed. But before bed, my husband needed to take a shower…so I decided to go onto Pinterest.

Sign #3: On Pinterest…so y’all might not see this as a sign…because it may seem prompted…but I asked the universe, and I got a response…to me…It’s more of a sign than the other two. So…back to the sign…on Pinterest, I typed into the search bar ‘name savannah’ to see if anything pretty popped up, and really just to see her name spelled out. There were all the to be expected posts of Savannah, Georgia, and travel guides…lots of little plaques with her name and flowers…and I said to the universe, show me a sign, let something stand out, help me relax. And as I scrolled further, I saw it…Her name…and my name (which is really quite rare) right below it…on a post that read, ‘cutest combos of baby names’. I shook my head in disbelief. For one, I never see my name ANYWHERE, growing up, my parents always had to have things made with my name, and to see it clear as day paired with her name, was the sign I needed right before bed. Now, you may think I was able to fall right asleep, nope, insomnia rears it’s ugly head during this process which so many thoughts floating around up there.

So, I woke, a new day…trying not to google much today…besides I googled everything I could. I will be buying home pregnancy tests to cheat though, because I can’t take the suspense. I know if I get a negative, I will be disappointed though…so there’s that delicate balance. But seriously…a two week wait is torture when the process has been so long…

Why Fear The Unknown When It Truly Is The Unknown?

Why do we do it? We have a tendency to fear the things we don’t know about or fear the things we cannot control. It’s innate in us, we just have a hard time wrapping our brains around a feeling we have never experienced yet.

When I was told I was going to have to have a Hysteroscopy to remove a small polyp in my uterus, before my egg transfer, I thought, how in the heck are they going to get in there, without cutting me open? When I inquired, the nurse told me they go in through the vagina and in through the cervix. I asked how they open the cervix and she said they would prescribe medication to dilate it. Wait, hold the phone, I know what that means, that means you are going to give me medicine to act like labor, I’m no dummy. She assured me it would not be like that.

When I picked the medication up from the pharmacy, I had the name of it and made the cardinal mistake of looking up information about it online. I read pages upon pages of women’s stories that told of the horror this medication afflicted on their bodies. I read of nightmarish things that made me so afraid of the pain I was going to experience I got myself prepared for the worst. I got lavender essential oil for my diffuser, I got epsom salts for a bath if needed, I downloaded meditation apps, and looked up pain reliever videos on you tube. I was all set to hunker down and work through it all night.

When they called to tell me my surgery time was 2pm, I started tearing up. I asked the nurse, how am I going to make it that long in writhing pain? I won’t be able to do it. She told me it would not be bad at all and not to worry. Of course, I worry, because I haven’t experienced it myself so I don’t know.

The time came to insert the three Misoprostol 200 mg tablets into my vajayjay. I pushed them as far up as I could reach and laid down in bed to wait. The first hour went by, and I felt a twinge of pain for a second, I thought, oh god, it’s coming, and I waited. The second hour went by and no pain, the third hour went by and still no pain. Hmmmm…did I do it right? Based on what other people said I felt like I must have screwed things up. Either way, there was nothing I could do about it now. I stayed in a horizontal position for about 3 hours to make sure nothing ‘fell’ out when I stood up. Really, there was no pain, maybe mild cramping, like a period a little, but I’ve had worse periods. I did take the Tylenol and Ibuprofen as instructed and to the minute based on what my directions were. After the last dose of pain killers, I went to sleep, and I was able to sleep through the night.

The morning came and I still had no pain, I got caught up on bills, made some important phone calls, and just relaxed to get ready for my surgery. When we got to the office, we checked in and since we were 45 minutes early I figured it would be a minute, but nope, I literally was sitting less than a minute and they called my name. To the back we went, and before you know it, there are 5 people in this tiny little pre-op curtained room. I swear to God. I had three nurses, one to ask me questions (which was so confusing with everything going on), one to put my IV in (which I wanted to focus on so I didn’t scream or move from pain) and one to watch the one doing the IV because the one doing it was new. Then I had the anesthesiologist in there asking questions through the nurses, and my doctor came in. Holy mackerel. It gave me a little anxiety before everything. But I told the nurse since I was dehydrated and my veins are small it might be a challenge to find a vein. I expected to be poked at least twice, especially with this new nurse. But she got it on the first try. I thanked her for not poking me twice. Then they brought me this substance to drink, a little shot in a red plastic container. I asked what it was and they told me it was for nausea. The minute I smelled the sour smell I remembered it from my past two c-sections. It tastes like a lemon drop on acid and a deep medicine taste. It is horrible! When all calmed down, I was just waiting my turn in the operating room. My husband was in there with me, and he was playing on his phone and I read a couple articles in my magazine.

Before I knew it, they came in to get me. I walked to the bathroom to pee, and then walked right into the OR. It was the same table as my egg retrieval and they had me back into the table and they untied my gown and had me lay down, with my butt at the end of the table and my legs in these stirrups. They are massive cushiony stirrups and they are lifted up high, and they cradle your legs and strap them in. I gotta say, minus the breeze in my nether regions, it was pretty comfy.

The anesthesiologist put a blood pressure cuff on my arm and strapped my arms to the table. Before I even knew it, I was asleep. They don’t have you count down or let you know it’s going to happen, it just does, and you wake up 45 minutes later feeling like nothing happened at all. It’s the weirdest feeling. I chatted with the nurse once I woke up and I had little to no pain, just grogginess. They gave me Tylenol just in case there was pain and I was on my way. I was starving because I couldn’t eat all day and they gave me something for any nausea associated with the anesthesia, so my husband and I stopped and got some food on the way home. It hit the spot perfectly.

A few hours after getting home, I started to feel cramps in my uterus and it isn’t pleasant, but I took some Ibuprofen and I hope it stays pretty mild. So far, all my fears have been disproven. I hope that continues as I start injections back up tomorrow morning. In fact, the big dog drugs are coming out to play now. Tomorrow begins, Lovenox injection, estrogen patches, estrogen tablets, aspirin, and the antibiotic I’m on from the surgery today. A week after that I add Progesterone in Oil to the mix, another one of my great fears.

One more thing down, and I’m keeping my eyes on the prize. My sweet sweet baby girl.

Everything I Do Is New and Scary

Yesterday was the first day of taking this antibiotic they prescribed me in preparation for my water sonogram. It said on the sheet to take it with food, and I took it when I woke up, knowing by the time I got to work, within the 30 minute mark, I would be eating something. Well, I barely made it to that point, because I felt very weird, sort of out of it, nauseous, sick, everything. I forced myself to eat a Fiber One bar and that was it. I dry heaved for close to an hour and then when the food set in, I felt better. I didn’t even know what the medicine was called or really what it was for. When I got home I looked it up and was shocked to read that it can be used to prevent anthrax poisoning and malaria. CRAZY! No wonder I felt so crappy after I took it. I made sure to take it with¬†food in the evening. I was also instructed to take an Ibuprofen 600 tablet before bed and two hours before procedure. I didn’t feel like it would do much…

I was expecting pain, and I got pain. I also wasn’t sure what to expect, pretty much at all. I read about it on the internet and I thought I would be able to feel the water going in. That, I couldn’t. But where the pain came in was the “mock transfer’ where my doctor put the catheter into my cervix. He had some trouble getting it in and it was painful and uncomfortable. Not enough to make me cry, but my husband was there and I was squeezing his hand. He told me he couldn’t have that happen the day of my transfer, but honestly, I’m not sure what will be different then, maybe just that he knows it’s a challenge. My doctor did find a polyp inside my uterus and he told me that because it is posterior and that is where he attempts to place the embryo for implantation, it needs to be clear of that type of thing. So, now I need to have surgery to remove it.

Having the nurse explain this surgery to me has me slightly freaked out again. Yes, I will be sedated, and yes, it’s outpatient, but when I asked how they will be going in to get it, they told me they will dilate the cervix and go in that way. I said, as if I’m in labor? and they said, yes, but not so bad. I’m thinking, when I had my second baby and I went into labor naturally, I was demanding drugs at 4 cm because I was in so much pain. Now, I have to endure this pain on purpose again? Ummmm, I don’t think so. Ugh. So, another day off of work and I am not looking forward to the unknown again. It just seems like every step is scary. But every time I complete something, it’s one more thing crossed off the list.

Today was also the day they administered my Depot Lupron shot. This is the shot the nurse told me cost $1000 out of pocket, but thank God my insurance covered it. They told me because it’s so expensive, they like to give it at the office, so nothing goes wrong. I had talked to a friend who went through it and she said it was the worst shot ever. It was big and long and scary. Well, I chose not to look at it and I asked the nurse if she could get me a frozen ice pack for my wimpy self. They got me one that was not cold enough and I requested a more solid frozen one, and they obliged. If nothing else, they sure know how to humor me. So I put it on my backside and let it sit for a few minutes. I took my husbands hand and when she gave it to me, I barely felt a thing. That solid ice pack works wonders. Now, to sit back and wait for the side effects, the hot flashes, and night sweats. I hope I bypass all that stuff.

On my way out of the office, my husband had to use the bathroom, and I was waiting by the elevators. This woman came out of the office and made the same mistake I do a million times with opening their new glass door. It needs a little sign that says either Push/Pull, because you always do the opposite and then you feel silly. Well, I made a comment to her, laughing that I do the same thing all the time and she laughed and asked me a question about if it was my first appointment. I told her it wasn’t, then her and I got chatting about all that’s gotten me up to this point in the process. She told me that she just went to her consult appointment and how much information it was to take in. I agreed and we talked for what seemed like forever. She and I seem to be a lot alike and I thought it was cool that she was wanting to go through IVF for the same reason as us. I don’t know anyone who would be willing to go through it like me, so to meet someone else who is thinking about it was pretty refreshing. We talked so long, I said, we should exchange numbers because it was nice chatting. It’s funny because we were talking about signs and she told me she believes in them, when I got in the car, I told my husband that I hope she sees us meeting as a sign, because I know I would have. When I got home I got a text that said she is looking at our meeting as a sign. I smiled. I know all about signs.

So, now I have to wait to have this minor surgery and hope that’s not too painful. Just one more step until my baby girl is growing inside my belly.

The Waiting Game Just Begins

Well, I’m a couple weeks out from my egg retrieval now and I feel like it’s been an eternity. I felt really yucky the week after the procedure, like hard to breathe, move or do anything really. I ended up calling off of work and staying off my feet for five days after, and when I started moving around again, everything hurt. Wasn’t debilitating pain, but a lot of discomfort. After the retrieval they told me I would get the results right away for how many fertilized and then in a week I would get the results of the genetic screening.

The next day, I did get a phone call, to tell me that out of my 22 eggs that were retrieved, 17 fertilized. I was happy, but scared, I don’t know if that’s a good number or not, and truly, I only need one to be a girl, but what if there weren’t any? I anticipated getting another call in a week to let me know how many survived the five day grow-out stage, but I never got a call. I called the office and they said no results yet…waiting some more…called back…still no results. I’m getting antsy now. It’s been a week and half and I go on my first trip of the year to Beaver Island, MI. Just for the weekend, but nonetheless, it gets me the heck out of the mundane and worry. And it did just that, I was able to have fun with my friends and enjoy the beach and weather. It was just what I needed. Not to mention the fact I got some major signs from the universe not to worry.

So, a few posts back I wrote about my experience with reiki, and how I was so driven by worry and fear that it won’t work out that I was having trouble sleeping. I asked my massage therapist, who is a very dear friend of mine, to do some energy work on me. Not knowing what to expect, I was just lying there trying to relax, when a very vivid vision came into focus. Long story short, it was of me, in a field, with my hair down and a bald eagle came soaring down and landed right in front of me, I put a pouch in it’s beak and it flew away. That was metaphorically my ‘bag’ of worries and fears, that I just gave up and let the eagle take them from me.

So, fast forward to now, when I’m on Beaver Island, and my friend and I are walking around the little harbor area, and a bald eagle soars right overhead, so close to us. Not high up in the sky, not far away, 20 feet up in the air right above our heads. It was amazing! I was on cloud nine! I was like, is that a sign I don’t need to worry? I told my friends about the vision and they were all thinking it was a sign too and I relaxed a little bit. They were just as excited as I was to find out the news. Later that day, we were laying on the beach and another bald eagle was flying directly over us while we were resting. Soaring high above the sand and water. I watched it fly down the beach and land in a large pine tree, so I walked over to the tree to try to get a better look. It was so dense and dark I was unable to see anything. But I’m convinced those were signs from the universe to relax.

When I got back from my mini vacation I was searching for property on Beaver Island because it was so pretty, and I stumbled across a picture of a field with tall grass. It was the field from my vision. Almost exactly, only thing missing was the wildflowers and me. I took that as another sign and fell asleep excited to hear the news.

Two days pass, and now it’s been two weeks since my retrieval. I call the office because I thought for sure I would have heard something by now and they told me they got the results for how many blasts made it through the 5 day waiting period. I got 11 out of 17 that were strong enough to survive. Scared me. I thought well, that dramatically decreases my figures for a healthy baby girl. They still didn’t have the genetic screen done. I figured it would be another week, so I began patiently waiting for more news. I told the few people who knew and most were like, there has to be ONE girl, I mean the odds are in your favor. But then there were a couple who tried to poo poo it by saying, if you don’t get one, it’s okay, boys are just fine too. So, to me, that goes to show they truly do not understand WHY I’m doing this in the first place. Keep it positive people! Now is not the time to play devils advocate. And let me tell you, I’m a pro at that when it comes to advice and telling people what I think, but you have to know when the right time is to do that, and when someone is not in the place to hear that the alternative is a true possibility. I mean come on, you think I don’t think that 24/7? Sitting here riddled with worry, I mean seriously.

The next day I get a call from the office and it’s my favorite nurse. I say, ‘omg, do you have my results?’ and she says ‘yes, I do’. I asked her to hold on so I could go somewhere private in case I cry, because I was at work. When I was somewhere private I said, ‘I’ve been waiting so long and I’m so nervous’ and she said, ‘I’ll just cut to the chase and end your suspense, you have three girls!’ I said ‘Are you serious? Omg, I cannot believe this!’ and she ended up telling me of the 11 blasts, I had 5 healthy embryos, of the five, 3 are girls, and 2 are boys. Holy moly, for someone who has more boys at home, I figured the ratio would be a bit the other way. I started crying, I told her I’ve been waiting my whole life for this moment and I am so excited. She got me set up with an appointment for a water sonogram, which my doctor prefers to do before I do a transfer.

I am currently on my birth control pill and I will be skipping my period next time to have this procedure. I’m scared and nervous and excited to start the next phase. It’s happening, it’s really happening! Yesssssssssssss!

Egg Retrieval Day

Monday, after my blood work and ultrasound, they told me it was getting ready to be time for my egg retrieval. They originally told me it would be Thursday, but I had been in a lot of pain from how big my ovaries had gotten. They estimated about 30 follicles between both ovaries. I was waiting to hear from my doctor to advise me what to do next.

That afternoon, I got the phone call from the nurse, she said my retrieval was going to be Wednesday and I needed to swing by the office to pick up this other drug they didn’t order for me. She asked me to bring my HCG and she would mix it for me in the office. I stopped by my house on the way there, and got the meds. When I got there I expressed how nervous I was to get the HCG injection, because this was the first intramuscular shot I’ve had to take so far. She drew a little circle on my backside so my husband would know where to stick it, told me the exact time I needed to take it, 12:30 am. I had to do two other subcutaneous shots in my tummy at that same time. My husband went to bed and set his alarm, I stayed up, because I was anxious and couldn’t sleep anyways. We did the two tummy ones, and then I prepared and laid face down on the bed for him to give the HCG shot. We used an ice pack and I told him to do it, I felt a little poke and I seriously thought he poked and then pulled back because he got nervous. I kept shouting for him to just do it, do it, get it over with, and he said he did it already, it’s over. So I was relieved I didn’t really feel it, but I was overcome with emotion because it’s been a long ride and I was so scared. So, that’s it for shots for now.

The next day and this morning I was still sore and the feeling of being full is an understatement. I was doubled over in pain as I walked into the IVF facility for my retrieval. I got there and was super nervous and excited. They called me back and started asking me lots of questions, a little overwhelming to say the least. Then they started to get the IV ready, they noticed right away that I have horrible veins and asked where I normally get an IV. I told them, and they tried there, in the top of my left hand, and it didn’t work. Big surprise, I didn’t expect it to, sadly. They called another nurse in and she found a vein on my right wrist, and put it there, that sucks. But once it was in, it was alright.

They asked my husband to go so he could give his ‘offerings’ and that was it. I thought I’d get to kiss him bye or something, nothing. Then they asked me to use the bathroom, so I walked over there with assistance, since I had the IV hooked up at that point. I thought we were going to go back to the area I was in, but they had me just walk right back to the operating room. I got on the table and laid back, they had these cushy leg-stirups that hold your entire leg so it’s relaxed, quite comfy, but I felt a bit uncomfortable because people were in and out and my hoo hoo was just hanging out for all to see, and I kept feeling breezes, lol. I had told the nurse that I get nauseous with anesthesia, and she made sure zofran was given to me in my IV. I told them I was nervous and they said they’d give me something for that. I remember telling them the stirrup things are comfy and that I was dreaming I was on a beach, and that’s it, then I woke up in the recovery area. It really was so weird, to just not remember anything.

I woke up in a lot of pain, pain like I’d been hit by a truck, that kind of pain. They told me my ovaries were so gigantic they had gone up under my rib cage and they literally had to manually get them out via the outside of my body, by manipulating and pressing on the outside of my body, it got them to move so the doctor could get the eggs. They said I will have lots of external bruising and lots of internal bruising, since I had 30 follicles. I did not expect the amount of pain I’m experiencing currently.

The bright side is that I got 22 eggs, so those are good odds to get at least one girl egg. I am currently laying in bed, it hurts to breath and I just took an Oxycodone, so hopefully that kicks in soon.

I will get a call from the office next week with the number of eggs that fertilized. I’m both nervous and so excited. This process feels extremely surreal, like we’ve been waiting for so long for it and now it’s here, I can’t believe it.

Is It Over Yet?

I’m 13 days deep in this process and 38 pokes down. It’s starting to get rough now. Emotionally, I’m trying to keep it together, but it’s rough. I have begun to feel like a pincushion, especially on ultrasound/lab work days. I go in, after having my husband just given me a shot, and since I have such poor veins, they poke and poke and my arms are all beaten and bruised. I look like a drug user, and I know its going to get worse. Today is my last day on the calendar they gave me, but I don’t know what to expect for the rest of the week. They are telling me my egg retrieval will more than likely be Thursday, and today is Monday, so I don’t really know how many more pokes to expect. I guess I’ll find out today at my appointment.

So, the pain from what these drugs are doing to my body is real. It started as a dull cramping and fullness, and now I full on feel like I’m in the beginning stages of labor. My uterus is cramping, I feel pain in my abdomen and my lower back is killing me. I’ve read a few things saying not to take Ibuprofen, so I’m trying to steer clear of it. I spent my entire Sunday laying on my back in bed. I honestly don’t know how I’m going to work and make it to Thursday for the retrieval. From what I’ve read, those symptoms are normal, and I just need to work through them. My injection sites are bruised and my middle child yesterday asked, ‘mama, what are those yellowy spots on your tummy?’ and when I told him he asked ‘but why are they yellow?’, and I had to explain the process of a shot going in my skin and causing pain and why a bruise would form. Hard to explain to a 4 year old. My tummy is in rough shape as I’m losing valuable square footage to poke it. Each shot feels different based on where it goes in and if it hits any of those pain receptors or not. Some shots I don’t feel at all, not even a poke, others make me jump. It’s weird.

Emotionally, I’ve had my moments. Sometimes I feel weepy, and down on myself, thinking about all the people who have had a boy, and a girl and how lucky they are. I get mad that I feel that I need to do this in order to get a girl, and other people didn’t even try and that’s what they got. I was in line the other day at the deli counter and a young woman (probably early 20’s) was in line in front of me. She had a baby girl in a car carrier in the shopping basket of the cart and she was sleeping away peacefully. I asked the mom how old the baby was and she said 3 months, we exchanged silly banter and I told her I had 3 boys, she said she wished her baby was a boy, but she got her instead. For some reason, that made me cry when I got home. Probably because of the pain I am going through for my dreams, and others just get it naturally.

They warned me of the Centritide injection making me emotional and angry, and I’ve only really experienced the emotional part, acting a little more down than normal. Until yesterday, where things got a bit, oh, how do you put it…screamy…lol. It all started normal, until I began doing laundry and I decided to change the baby’s changing pad cover and throw it in the wash, well, I’m in pain and can’t walk down the stairs all that easy, so I call down to my husband to throw it in the already started washing machine…no answer…he was just there, I’m calling and calling and nothing. I’m getting aggravated now. I make my oldest put it in the washer and there is hubby, I screamed at him that I had been calling to him and I needed him. He asked what for and when I told him, he clearly thought I was insane. But I was mad! I realize my level 10 blow up was unnecessary, but I felt angry in the moment and it is what it is. This basically happened all day, with him and the kids, then I asked him to run out and get me food from Ruby Tuesday and he didn’t want to go. I begged him to and he went, at 9pm on a Sunday night, when he was already exhausted from the kids all day. He pretty much is a saint, I’ll tell you that right now.

So, here we are, me in writhing pain, waiting for word on when these eggs can be removed and hoping to God I can work this week, because my vacation time is running a bit thin these days.