Omlet anyone?

IVF: Week 3

Hey! There’s still a person in here!

      With all the shots, the judicious schedule, the trips across town to the doctor every day for the blood draws and the oh-so-fun ultrasounds, the bruises on my arms, gut, and butt, I’ve begun to feel like some sort of egg producing robot!

      Every time I move I’m reminded of my love hate relationship with this process. I love the opportunity to go through this, but I look and feel like I got into a very odd fight. The creases in my arms are bruised from all the blood draws, my gut burns and looks like a pin cushion, my ovaries are so full I could make an omelet, and my small-green-clover tattoo on my rumpus, is now speckled with purple and yellow bruises. But, there is a silver lining. . .

      There are two types of Invetro; long cycle and short cycle. I was scheduled to do the long cycle IVF. This just means I would take more meds and for a longer period of time. God has again shown me favor! My body has responded so well to the hormones that my eggs are ready to be harvested much earlier than originally anticipated. This means I get to stop all the shots, stop all the blood draws, stop all the ultrasounds, and get this party started! Well, sort of. . .

      I really just get to take a break from needles and ultrasounds, but even when I start back up it will only be 1 daily shot and some blood and ultrasounds. Today is my first day without any shots. My butt feels like it has a golf ball stuck in it from the HUGE shot I had to do last night, but at least I get a break.

      In case you’re unfamiliar with how the female reproductive system works, the ovaries typically trade off, producing one egg per cycle. I currently have 14 full sized eggs and a handful of smaller ones. Needless to say, I’m a bit uncomfortable. My ovaries feel like they are going to BURST from all the eggs, my abdomen is swollen and tender, and sitting upright is splendid. My ovaries have never worked this hard in my life!  

      I still haven’t had any major hormonal outbursts, and I actually feel pretty good considering all the crap my body and soul have been through. I did have a “loud discussion” with my husband yesterday, but I truthfully didn’t feel a surge of emotions like I had before. He was being an ass and I decided it was my place to tell him . . . hmm . . . maybe there were some hormones involved in that discussion, but I think it was mostly me.  Knowing myself like I do, I’m quite surprised that I didn’t become an emotional wreck. It’s funny when we realize how strong we really are in times of hardship. The Lord has truly blessed me with His strength and presence. My family is not the easiest to live with and I am not the most laid back person. Yet, God has given me perspective and patience. Of course there were times when my patience was tested and I failed, but no one was injured, damned to hell, and my back yard is body free, so I count this a success!

      But now is the final test; tomorrow my eggs will be harvested and next Thursday the fertilized embryos will be implanted into my uterus. The egg harvesting is supposedly very painful. They have to sedate me, which is a problem because I have a terrible reaction to narcotics. So, that will be a challenge. The embryo transfer is less painful, but very delicate. The first 3 days are crucial. This will be the hardest part for my family. This is when they will have to step up to the plate. No stress for Mommy, no attitude, no arguments . . . just calm and love. I know they can do it.

     
      I will savor today; the one day in the past 3 weeks with no needles, no doctors, and no one shouting into my girly parts “Hello . . . is anyone home?”

      I will savor today because tomorrow is the beginning of the end.

 

 

Shots, shots, shots, shot-shots!

IVF: Week 2

 

        Shots, shots, shots, shots, shot-shots! Not exactly what the group LMFAO had in mind when they made their song entitled “Shots”, but it seems fitting. I’ve graduated to 4 shots per day plus a daily blood draw. That’s a minimum of 5 needles in me per day, plus going to the doctor’s office every day. In a few days the routine doctor appointments will also include an ultrasound . . . not the easy on the tummy ultrasound . . . we’re talking looking from the inside, super-fun, ultrasound!

        This week really started off with a bang! One of the hormones is giving me the most vivid and crazy dreams. I’m also sweating but freezing cold at night. I wake up a dozen times per night because of the sweat and the cold, then I’m distracted by the crazy dream I was having. It seems like anything that was on my mind or in my face that day ends up in my dream. I never reach a full deep sleep because the dreams seem to keep my mind half awake. Example: I saw the trailer for the new Brad Pitt film a few times before bed, so naturally he was in my dream and wearing a Kilt. I don’t know why. So, I’m tired, very tired, but it’s ok.

         I have definitely felt the emotional side of the hormones a few times this week, but not too bad. The worst of it was when I saw a bald eagle dive bomb the freeway. I narrowly missed it, but the car behind me couldn’t avoid it and ran it over. On a normal, non-hormonal day, that would have made me tear up. But on that day, it was too much. My heart ached for this beautiful creature that I was powerless to save. I wanted to run out in the street and rescue him like he was MY bald eagle, my dog, my child. Naturally I called 911, they gave me the run around, I gave some very rude man a little tiny taste of the hormones, then I called my husband and cried. This was only the beginning to a super-fantastic day!

        I was on my way to get and ultrasound . . . the inside out kind . . . when the eagle incident happened. When I got there, SURPRISE, I had to have a few more thigns done than just the ultrasound. Yay! I was poked, prodded, had my uterus measured for tilt and depth . . . from the inside! Fun! Then, I got to go to the pharmacy and buy 42 more needles (in addition to the almost 50 I already have). The next day I got to start 2 new hormones (3 additional shots on top of the 1 I was giving myself). The first, of these 2 super fun hormones, I take twice per day, and it makes the back of my throat taste like BAND-AIDS. Sweet! The second new hormone is quite a fussy little guy. I have to actually break glass, use 2 different needle heads, mix things, and lastly it has to be injected into my rumpus by someone other than me. It’s my favorite!

        Yes, all the shots hurt a little, yes, the butt shot hurts more, yes, I bleed, and yes, I bruise. BUT, it’s totally worth it! It’s not that bad, it’s just an adjustment. Isn’t having a baby always an adjustment? Absolutely! I’m just adjusting early.

        Enough about needles and all that junk, let’s get into the funny stuff; the crazy! I’m actually doing very well, if I do say so myself. . . and my friends reassure me that I’m doing great because I haven’t injured anyone. I did, however, let the crazy out just a little on my 13 year old son this week. I was very, very tired, and we had just gone to Costco. Whatever energy I had left I used up at Costco. By the time we got home, I was exhausted. While we were unloading the groceries, my son accidentally spilled uncooked rice everywhere. I told him it was no big deal and to sweep it up. Thirty minutes later, I was still nagging at him about the rice. Finally he started sweeping it up but he wasn’t paying attention, he was goofing around, and he was missing a bunch of it. When I told him to do a better job, he got a 13-year-old attitude with me. I mustered all the patience I could grasp and didn’t freak out, I simply spoke to him calmly about it . . . until . . . he continued with the “Uh! I have to get EVERY SINGLE piece of rice?!” Well, then Mommy reminded him that this may not be the best time throw around attitude. I felt my face ignite with fire. I could have touched my hand to car battery and given someone a jump start. I looked him in the eye and said “Son, if you want to have attitude, then let’s have attitude. I have and excuse for my attitude and I don’t use it. You spilled some rice and have to clean it up and YOU’RE having the bad attitude?! What’s your excuse?! Don’t play the bad attitude game with me right now, because you won’t win!” And that was the end of it. He understood where I was coming from and why, and we moved merrily about our day.

       Moral of the story; Mommy is only so strong, so don’t pull that crap while Mommy is on the hormones . . . Love You!

       Then there are the shots in the butt . . . always a good time. The first day the nurse demonstrated by injecting me with saline. Once we were home, my husband had to give me my first real shot of meds in the booty. He did a great job. Sure, it hurt and it bled, but it wasn’t as bad as I expected. Now the second day was a different story. My husband works a demanding and dangerous job and is often called to work at a moment’s notice. Thirty minutes before he was supposed to give me my shot, he was running out the door for work. But, since our God is and omniscient God, He provided a dear friend, that was already visiting, to administer my shot. The thing to know about this friend is that she is a strong, confident, capable woman, so I had no fear of her handling it. We got everything ready; we mixed the solution, we swabbed the spot on my behind, she grabbed the muscle, plunged the medicine into me and then . . . POP! When she pulled out the needle it made a loud popping sound as if it were suctioned under my flesh. I started bleeding quite a bit and she felt terrible. It didn’t hurt anymore that the other shot; it just made a very loud sound. After the bleeding stopped and the band aid was on, I realized how lucky I was to have her here in that moment. Popping butt or not, God provided for me. And now, we have something to laugh about down the road. “One time Aunty Charity made Mommy’s booty pop . . . and not on the dance floor.”

Laughter IS the best medicine!

       To quote my friend, “This baby better be cute.”

Time for more shots, shots, shots . . .

Here we go. . .

IVF:  Week 1

 

          Saturday May 11, was my first hormone shot. Luckily, a friend of mine that is well versed in giving shots assisted me. The doctor had told me how to measure the ampules, and how to give myself the shot, but it was all very clinical. By Saturday, clinical wasn’t gonna cut it. This was real! I needed real advice, real application . . . real comfort. My girlfriend said all the right things; “You’re going to bruise yourself sometimes, you’re going to bleed sometimes, you’re going to lose your grip on the needle and you may flop it around under your skin a time or two,  but it’s OK!” She showed me how to give myself the shot without anxiety or worry of screwing it up. The first few days were fine. I had a few minor side effects of the med; cramping, bloating, and some digestive discomfort, but other than that, it was a synch. Until Wednesday. . .Wednesday was the first day I made myself bleed and gave myself a bruise. . .but I wasn’t worried. I knew it was ok because my friend, a woman I trust, assured me it would be ok. Then Thursday came and I felt weighed down. An exhaustion that wasn’t normal. I felt like crying. I have several things on my plate right now including a very difficult and rebellious child, a teenage girl that I love has run away into a world of drugs and prostitution, and my back is in so much pain that I can’t exercise and I’m a little freaked out about getting fat on the hormones then during pregnancy . . . so, some of those are legitimate things to cry about, others may be the hormones. But again, God provided me with comfort. He gave me an evening with two of my children-from-another-womb. My dear friends Charity’s children are like my own but I don’t get to see them often. They provided me with all the love and comfort I could have asked for . . . but I didn’t have to ask.

          I don’t believe the saying that God never gives you more than you can handle because God isn’t the only one “giving” us stuff in life. The devil is hard at work, and I believe that he is the one who has given me this hardship. But I do believe that there is nothing that God can’t use for His glory! The devil gave me this disease preventing me from conceiving on my own and God will take this pain and suffering and turn it into something remarkable! The Lord has already provided for me every step of the way . . . the right doctor, the money (it’s a large amount of money guys!), the support, and the strength. Having the direction and comfort of my friend during my first shot and then the love and company of these beautiful children was so much more than just that; it was God showing me that He will provide for me every step of this journey, that He will never leave my side, that He will comfort me in times of need, and that he will douse the flames of any anxiety with His cool soothing waters.

          This is by far one of the scariest journey’s I have embarked on. . .the shots, the procedures, the mood swings, the pain, the money, the money, the money, and what if it doesn’t work??? None of that is in my hands. It all rests in the mighty hands of my God and I rejoice for that!!

          Here we go . . . the journey begins. . .