Truckin' Along

I have a confession: I got a cup of coffee this morning.  And not the small size. The medium.

I needed it; it’s cold and rainy and I’m tired and the novelty is starting to wear off of this whole process.  I feel like a freaking pin cushion.  Since this time last Friday, I’ve had 18 needles in me.  Four blood draws, six doses of Gonal F, six doses of Menopur, one dose of Ganirelix, and one cyst aspiration.  Not that I’m counting.  And that number is about to increase exponentially; from here on out I have three shots a day and will get blood drawn at least every other day.  My nurse told me to start icing my arms where she takes the blood to prevent bruising so that she can continue to access her favorite vein.  You know you are getting too much blood taken when your nurse has a favorite vein.

You know who else is getting a little too familiar with giving me shots?  Henry.  He likes it, and is surprisingly good at it.  He asked me if I thought he could outsource his skill and be a professional IVF medication mixer and shot giver.  The man just finished law school and now he’s fantasizing about nursing school. Great.

To mix things up, last night we embarked on a medication adventure: we were at a party during shot time, so we had to pack up our little portable medication cooler and do the shots in the bathroom.  For a minute we seriously considered leaving the needle behind; it would have caused all kinds of fun gossip this morning!  Somehow I doubt anyone would have guessed what it was actually used for (although Laura, she of the possible fertility treatments, was there, so maybe she would have recognized it?).

Then, tonight, we’ll be down at my parents (my mom is so fascinated with this process that I have a feeling she’ll want to watch me get the shot), and Saturday night is the one I’m dreading: Henry and I will be apart, so I’ll have to give myself the Saturday night and Sunday morning shots, three in all. Not happy about that.

And every day we get closer and closer to that giant, intramuscular trigger injection needle.

Anyway, I realized I never shared my test results from Wednesday: my estrogen was at 227.  I’m still having a hard time figuring out where it’s supposed to be, but from what I can tell they want it to double every 48 hours.  Mine doubled and then some (it was at 100 on Monday), so that’s good!  I got more blood taken today, and I’m hoping for a 500 when I hear from the nurse this afternoon.*

I also had another ultrasound today, and was a little disappointed.  I had six measurable follicles on my right ovary, all between 10-12 mm.  And then a couple small ones on my right, and a couple more small ones on my left.  I was hoping for more, but am telling myself…

• It only takes one
• Slow growth is better than fast
• Quality is more important that quantity
• Having too many would be bad – OHSS sounds awful
• The little ones have plenty of time to catch up, and might not be too far behind (I don’t think they measure anything under 10)
• There could be more hiding back there
• The big ones all seem to be growing at the same pace
• I’m on a pretty low dose of medications, so if my doctor wasn’t happy he could easily increase it

And I can tell the meds are working – I’m a little bloated (definitely in the fat pants today) and have that pre-period full uterus feeling going on.  I’m also a little more emotional than normal.  On Tuesday night I cried at Raising Hope (although that might not have had anything to do with the meds –c’mon, Hope called Sabrina mommy, who wouldn’t tear up at that?), and then Wednesday was extra embarrassing because I got sniffly up at one of those stupid “He Went to Jared” commercials.  If I start asking Henry for an Open Heart ™ necklace, someone please put me out of my misery.

*Update: My estrogen had only risen to 377, so they went ahead and increased my dosage to 150 IU of Gonal F and 112.5 IU of Menopur.  The nurse said that this is pretty common after starting Ganirelix and not a reason to worry, I was fine.  But I'm going to go ahead and worry anyway.