Skip to main content

I is for...

So I may have lied to you all in my first post.
We knew exactly when the next transfer would be. The 22nd. Two and a half weeks from today. EEK! 

Any of you who have been through this process know exactly what that means. Injections. I is for injections. I is also for I lied. I am a horrible person. Or a private one....however you want to look at it.

After losing my father, grandmother, grandpa and great aunt all in about 18 months, I have a strong aversion to the phrases "I'm sorry" and "I'm sorry for your loss" ... almost as much as I've come to hate "It's all in God's plan" -- but that usually comes from someone who has NO idea how infertility works, and are telling us to just "stop trying and it will happen," ... yep, because that works on every other disease and diagnosis, right?

Anyway...back to today's scheduled programming,

Today is the first day of injections for this transfer cycle. Delestrogen. Estrogen in (fairly thick) liquid form. To be injected Fridays and Mondays through the beta test...and throughout the first trimester if this little embryo sticks and we get a positive pregnancy test. That would be a first.

.2ml today, .25ml on Monday, and further dosage is TBD after my blood draw next week. This is the smallest, least painful, least frequent injection of them all. I almost don't mind this one. Except for the headaches. I am not looking forward to the headaches.

Next comes Progesterone In Oil (PIO). That one hurts. We sart it on the 16th. It begins with 1ml for two days, then increases to 2ml daily.


The injection itself isn't that  bad. A needle poke in the hip/butt area. Hold SUPER still while injecting painstakingly slow. Bandage it up. Massage and apply heat. Don't skip those steps or you end up with big lumps. Remember them, and you just end up with lumps in general...and a sore ass.

A bruised, lumpy, sore ass. Babymaking is sexy folks.


Popular posts from this blog

S is for...

Yesterday was Mother's Day here in the US.
It was hard. Shitty even. S is for shitty. 
You'll get the pun in a few.
Also, this post is not censored for profanity. I let it fly freely.

It started off like any other family gathering day.
Well, after I could rally myself to get out of bed. I'd much prefer to just lay there with Tallie.
Wake up, eat breakfast, down some coffee, start (or finish) whatever dish I was tasked with taking.
This year was dessert - cupcakes for everyone!

...Then I wished a group of fellow IVF'ers (most with newborns or babies on the way) Happy Mother's Day. Of all the people I talked to, these were the people I least expected an insensitive comment from. I thought wrong. Fuck her. I muted the chat.

Chad was off running errands and came home to me in meltdown mode. My instinct was to "frost the fucking cupcakes" and start drinking. At 9am. We didn't have to be anywhere until 2, so I would have been real far gone by that point. Oh…

W is for...

Today I had my first ultrasound in almost a year.
Well, except for the emergency room visit.
W is for Wanda. Everyone's favorite friend.

Dr. B was running a little late. Darn those other women and their eggs. I remember my Nurse Coordinator telling me that ovaries don't know what day it is (about working holidays). Apparently they don't know what time it is either...
So I waited. Half naked. Covered by an over-sized paper napkin. Just me and the ultrasound machine. Wanda. Should I play with her? Roll the giant track ball around a bit?  Would they know? I mean, it's not like they can have cameras in there, right?
I grabbed my phone. I checked Etsy. I messaged my transfer groups and talked about the horrors of cervical clamping that may be in my near future. I waited.  I was bombarded with photos of babies.  I love babies.  I'm still waiting.
I always feel so awkward waiting there. Trying to decide if I should let my feet dangle, or put them in the stirrups. One dow…

NIAW 2019!

It's National Infertility Awareness Week (NIAW) again and this year's theme is #infertilityuncovered#NIAW19
So, let’s get uncomfortable.
Let's talk about the #1in8 couples who are diagnosed with infertility.
Last year I focused on the facts, this year I’m focusing on me.
No sugar-coating here, so buckle up.

In case you missed it, or need a refresher here's part 1:
My first facebook post about our struggle

This week also means it has now been over *4.5 YEARS* since Chad and I started trying to start a family. To some people, that may seem ridiculously long, but to others, that's just the tip of the iceberg. I’ve met people who have waited TEN YEARS before having a successful pregnancy (this is the part where you pray it doesn’t take that long for us).
Don’t pray? That’s fine. Don’t agree with our journey, that’s cool too. We have a great support system, with or without you…but the more, the merrier.

A lot has happened since we said “I do” in 2014.
Death. Cancer. Buy…