Tag Archives: infertility

Infertility: Round 2

Last time we were dealing with infertility there were a lot of unknowns and a lot of tests to get to the bottom of them.  This time around we have a pretty clear picture of what’s going on, but it doesn’t make the situation any less bleak or frustrating. 

In case you are just tuning in, here’s the Cliffs Notes version of what I’m workin with;

1. Stage 3 of 4 Endometriosis (which I just learned may be less after having River, hooray for small victories!)

2.  A heart-shaped uterus (I’ve had the septum resected twice as these suckers (with a capital F) grow back!)

3.  An “advanced age” for pregnancy, I was 34 the first time around, now I’m 37

4.  I have only 1 Fallopian tube due to a ruptured ectopic pregnancy last year

5.  A traveling husband who is gone about 60-70% of the time

6.  A hormonal imbalance causing hot flashes and night sweats that my doctor is trying to figure out

Here’s what I have actually GOING for me;

1.  My ovaries are in good condition and I have a pretty good reserve for my “advanced age”

2.  A super patient and wonderful husband who’s on board with whatever it takes 

Since a year of “trying” has passed, to no avail, I’m back with a fertility specialist.  This time a new one since we moved out of state.  So far I really like her.  

My first appointment was Monday where we did blood work and an ultrasound.  She said my ovaries looked great, this month I had at least 7 eggs on the right and 6 on the left “wake up” which is right where it should be I guess.  She saw what could be a polyp or blood clot in my uterus and possibly some fluid in my remaining tube.  I still don’t have the results of the blood work.  

This morning I’m going in for another HSG test.  I’d have to say these are one of the most unpleasant things I’ve been through.  Last time I had to go through it several times because I had a couple doctors retire in the middle of my treatment and the new docs always wanted fresh info, that meant putting me through things time and again.  

On the plus side, HSGs could possibly boost your fertility for a few months.  Unfortunately my husband is also touring heavily at this time, damn it. 

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the upside to infertility 


River is now 22 months, which means 2 is just around the corner.  Problably one of the most reverberated phrases in parenthood is “it goes by so fast!”  I’m guilty of it, at least agreeing with it, but I don’t actually feel that way.  When someone says to me “I can’t believe he’s already (insert age here)!” I say, “I know” because I feel like my true answer of “I can!” sounds like I’m complaining.  

The truth is that I’m not shocked at his age or pace of the advancements he’s making because I’m so present.  I’ve never been more present for anything in my life.  I don’t mean because I’m a SAHM and am physically with him every minute.  I mean because I sop up every moment I have with him like a biscuit in a bowl of soup. (Sorry, I’m hungry)  And I attribute every bit of this to my years battling with infertility and having to accept that I may never be a mother. 

I’m certainly not saying that someone can’t relish every minute with their child without going through infertility, but I know in my case it was a necessary ingredient.  I’m a planner and a worrier, my mind is typically on the future at all times rather than the present.  Living in the moment does not come naturally to me and I constantly have had to work on that in my life.  But as a mother now it’s coming so naturally to me.  I feel like a sponge just soaking it all in and it’s wonderful.  This is how life should be lived. 

I’ve had a total love/hate relationship with the saying “everything happens for a reason.”  As a Buddhist this is the crux of my beliefs, but it if you said it to me while I was going through fertility issues I may have stabbed you with a pencil.  There were times I felt very bitter about what I was going through, and resentful of the fact that there could be no silver lining.  Even on the better days when I held on to hope I would someday get pregnant, my focus was on how every day that passed without getting pregnant was one less day I would get to spend with my child.  What a bummer way to feel.  

If I could rewrite my own story now and get pregnant right when we started trying, I don’t think I would.  In fact, I know I wouldn’t!  Everything I went through in order to have him has made me the mom I am, and I’m really proud of that person.  She’s so different from all the other people I’ve been in my life, and far cooler.  I’m so much more laid back (for me) and find humor in the really crumby parts, like at 2 am when he projectile vomits in a 4 ft radius around himself, the bed, me, the dog, as his head spun around a la The Exorcist.  Or when he threw my entire makeup bag in the toilet.  ūüė¨ MOMMY LOVES YOU. ūüė¨  Even these moments feel like a gift, and I find myself almost giddy about them rather than upset. 

I do feel like the people that have to wait and work hard to finally get their child are just different as parents.  I’m not going to say “better” because that’s RUDE. ūüėČ  But I think we have an easier time finding joy in even the shitty parts.  Some may call us insufferable as we post every burp and toot on instagram, but that’s ok because those people just don’t get it.  It’s ALL exciting when you’ve stared down the barrel of a life without children. 

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reach out

This week is River’s first birthday party!!  I can’t believe it.  We now have my mom and my in-laws here helping out with everything.  I still can’t pick up River and it’s a very frustrating feeling.  But I’m so thankful for how much my husband steps up happily and without a single complaint ever. I’m also so grateful to my mom and in laws for being here for us, we really do need their support right now.  Not just in caring for the baby, but also to help lift our spirits.  It’s nice having them around.

Jordan came with me to my blood test today.  They’re just checking my beta hcg to make sure it’s going down.  I guess with the “pseudo sack” in my uterus they need to be sure I’m not still pregnant.  Anyway the 2 of us ran a couple errands and went to lunch and I think it was the first time since all of this went down we’ve really had time to chat just us. 

Somehow we got on the subject of all the people that had reached out to us to let us know they are thinking about us in this time.  There were a few people of course that waited a little because they didn’t want to “bother” us while we were still dealing with stuff.

Jordan and I both talked about how often we have both had this same line of reasoning when other people we loved were going through something hard; the loss of a loved one, sickness, a bad breakup, whatever.  “Oh, they don’t want to hear from me right now, they’re probably dealing with so much as it is.”  It’s really kind of bonkers logic when you think about it.  And if you’ve ever been the one on the other side, it really becomes clear to you that the plan of “not bothering” someone when they’re going through something is pretty dumb.

There’s also the element of being uncomfortable and not knowing what to say that holds people back.  They don’t want to say the wrong thing and make you feel WORSE.  This is so true when it comes to matters of infertility or miscarriage. It’s such an uncomfortable conversation for most people as it is.  It’s hard when there are seemingly no silver linings.  It’s not like the loss of a dear friend or relative who got to live a life where you can reminisce about them or talk about the good parts.  So what do you say?

The answer is ANYTHING.  “How are you?” is perfect.  So is “I just want you to know I’m thinking of you.”  Really anything you say to show you care is excellent.  Remember when you are thinking “I better not bother them” about 90% of the people in their lives are probably thinking the same thing.  The person may not be ready to answer you but that’s ok, the message will be received in a huge way.  

That was kind of the main take away from our conversation today.  We were both so surprised at how much those small texts and messages meant, they really touched us.  And a lot of them from people we’d never expect to hear from, even getting care packages, letters, and meals sent from people we’ve never met face to face.   To know that even the people you don’t see or hear from regularly care about you when the chips are down is impactful.  All of this really did make a difference for us in this hard time.  No, no one can take fix what happened, but their love and support reminded us that there is still a lot we have to be grateful for, namely the wonderful people in our lives. 

So basically this was a very long way of saying reach out to the people you’re thinking of whether you feel they need to hear it or not.  They do. 

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Hellooo, Nurse!

Nurse Booby


My grandma was smart as a whip and “with it” pretty much until the end of her life, which happened to be just a week shy of her 101st birthday.  In her late 90s she was still reading Russian spy novels, kind of who-done-it murder mysteries where it’s important to keep all of the characters straight, and they all had last names that started with “Zh” and contained 47 letters, random Qs and a hieroglyphic of a bird.  Grandma was a force. 

There were really only a few times you could “catch her slippin” and only in the last year or so of her life.  A couple times while holding my tiny Chihuahua Booger on her lap and stroking his neck she called him a “good kitty” which really could have been anyone’s mistake.  He was actually more rodent than canine.  The other time was when she would repeat the same conversation over and over, even if she had just finished it 5 minutes earlier.  But it was always the same conversation and it always started with her asking me the same question, “could you ever be a nurse?”

She would go on to talk about how she didn’t think it was something she could ever do, and that the people who could were so exceptionally marvelous.  In her 100 years in the planet, with all of her experiences and everything she saw, at the end of her life what struck her the most was that there were people out there selfless enough to be nurses.  

She was a very healthy person.  Other than having her 5 babies, she never spent any time in the hospital up until the end of her life.  She didn’t have many experiences where she needed some of the things that we know nurses provide.  She never needed their quick action in a life or death situation.  She never needed them to change the dressing on a festering sore, or clean her bedpan.  She never needed to lean on them while trying to walk for the first time in weeks or to pull up her underwear after going to the bathroom.  She never needed them console her when she was scared or required one of their magic tricks like getting you to pee for the first time without a catheter after abdominal surgery with the use of a peri bottle. 

Although she never required a lot of what nurses have to offer personally, all these things added to her appreciation of them.  But there was one thing that nurses provide I think she valued most, and that’s dignity.  

Dignity was huge to my grandmother and it’s something that nurses provided for her in a big way at the end of her life.  

It’s not easy as an adult living without some or all of your independence.  It can be very difficult needing to lean on other people or have them care for you.  No matter what your restriction nobody loves asking for help, especially from loved ones.  Nurses not only provide the care, but they do it in a way that preserves dignity.

I’ve had a lot of instances where nurses have saved me. Through surgeries in my life and having my baby and even while TRYING to get pregnant, nurses have been by my side.  My mother in law is a nurse, and when it’s midnight (3am where she lives) and I’m worried about River’s poop or he has hives, she’s the one on the phone with me talking me through it.  After I had my baby, one of my mom’s dear friends who has been a NICU nurse for 30+ years was the one answering my questions and sending me literature and words of encouragement every step of the way.  This past week when I collapsed at my ultrasound appointment it was the nurse Raelyn who was literally holding me up on the toilet and who revived me with smelling salts, called the paramedics and my husband and then helped me get my pants on before 9 soap opera hunk EMTs showed up to the bathroom.  In the ER as I was losing 4 liters of blood in a matter of minutes and I had swarms of medical people buzzing around me and shouting things to each other that I didn’t understand, it was the nurse with the green eyes who kept getting close to my face and smiling and squeezing my hand to tell me I was doing great.  It was this same nurse who I turned to in the operating room moments before they put me under that I looked at with tears in my eyes and told I was scared.  Even with a mask on, I could feel her smile as she reassured me.  She said “you have the best people around you right now, we’re going to take care of you.  I promise.”

I love nurses so much.  Happy National Nurses Week!

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Today I made the mistake of looking up what an 11 week fetus looks like and now I can’t get it out of my head.  A super tiny, yet fully formed baby with fingers and tooth buds, itty bitty ears and tiny nose.  It’s too much for me right now.  

Here’s where some of the confusion came from about how far along I was.  First off, I had been having my period for the last several months, which I guess can happen with an ectopic.  When I went in Wednesday for the ultrasound the tech measured  a 4 week 4 day yolk sack in my endometrium.  This obviously made sense to me.  But the baby they pulled out of my Fallopian tube was much further along, the doctor said “at least 10 weeks.”  Because I chart my periods, ovulation and intercourse we now know for certain the baby was 11 weeks exactly. 

Now because of this mystery sack in my uterus I have to go in next week for a blood test to make sure it was not a double pregnancy, to know for certain I am no longer pregnant.  If that were the case I would need a D&C.  But the doctor said it may be what is called a pseudo sack, my body knew it was pregnant so it was trying to do the right thing and the sack would be empty.  I’m hoping that’s the case, I can’t handle another procedure and the loss of another baby at this moment. 

I’m kicking myself for not testing sooner, I knew there was something wrong.  I know it wouldn’t have been possible to save the baby, but I wouldn’t have let it get so far.  I feel really guilty about that.  And at the very least I may still have my tube. 

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National Infertility Awareness Week


It’s National Infertility Awareness Week and I’ve decided it’s time to make my blog public, whether I feel it’s ready or not.  Being on the other side of a 4 year struggle with infertility I still have a hard time finding words that may be helpful to those still in the thick of it.  But I desperately want to help. 

I’m a Buddhist and I have this app on my phone called Chant Buddy that’s really used to log minutes of chanting, but it also has a daily encouragement section that has a different quote every day from Daisaku Ikeda. Somehow, every time I open the app and see the quote of the day, it happens to go along perfectly with whatever I’m going through.  Every. Time.  I laugh with my mom because she had a book of guidance from Daisaku Ikeda that she used to open up to a random page every time she needed help and it was always perfectly suited as well.  Aaaaaanyway, I opened it up today looking for something helpful to guide this post and this is what it said. 


I mean, come ON.  Yes, precisely, Mr. Ikeda.  EXACTLY ūüĎŹūüŹľ this ūüĎŹūüŹľ right ūüĎŹūüŹľ here

I remember part of the pain I felt when having a baby was nowhere in sight for us was that desperate feeling of all this time being wasted.  Years were passing, and even if I could convince myself that it would happen for us one day, I felt bitter that these were years we were missing out on with our child. 

What was really hard to see then that is so obvious to me now it that those years added SO MUCH to who I am as a mother.  They strengthened the bond with my husband and put things into perspective in a way that makes me enjoy being a mom more than I would have without them.  

I’m not saying that people who go through fertility issues first love their children more.  I’m not saaaaying that. (this is me winking and nudging you under the table)  But there’s definitely  a heightened state of something.  It’s magic when you look at your baby after knowing you never would.  Sometimes I have to pinch myself, well I did, now my sadistic baby does the pinching.  But even when he’s simultaneously biting my face, screaming, and pulling out wads of my hair, deep down I’m like, “if this isn’t heaven, I don’t know what is.”

I’m not going to say never lose hope.  I lost hope about 50 times actually.  But the important thing is that I got it back and I didn’t give up.  I didn’t know if I would ever have a baby for sure, but I didn’t give up on being happy one day.  After all, rising above our challenges is where true, unshakable happiness comes from.  We need our obstacles, they make us strong.  And no matter your outcome, that strength will be your asset.

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Is IVF more boy-friendly?

We did genetic testing along with our IVF treatment, so we were able to see the sex of all of our embryos. ¬†We didn’t WANT to know before transferring because we wanted it to be a surprise and we made that clear to our doctor. ¬†He forgot.

We had 11 eggs that fertilized, but only 5 made it the 5 days after insemination to the testing day. ¬†We found this out the morning of our embryo transfer, 6 days¬†after egg retrieval/insemination, but it came with some bittersweet news. ¬†First of all, our dumb dumb Dodo doctor came in that morning and exclaimed that he had some “great news.” ¬†Out of 11 eggs, we were left with 2 healthy embryos. ¬†Both male. ¬†2. ¬†We were super excited because we both wanted a boy, but there was also that twinge of sadness from finding out much earlier than (and not how) we wanted what the sex of our baby would be, and also knowing that we didn’t even have the option of having a girl from this round of IVF.

Even more concerning was that 3 of the 5 embryos were abnormal, and ALL FIVE were male.  We had no female embryos that made it to testing.  Which of course raises the complex question; What the fuck?

I actually don’t think we got much information at all about the genetic testing. ¬†I’m not even sure if we got a physical report about their findings, we were just told that day that 3 of the 5 were “abnormal.” ¬†I don’t know if they even know more than that or not. ¬†I’d be interested in hearing from any of you fellow IVFers who also did testing if you ever got any more information than just normal/abnormal. ¬†It seems sort of vague to me. ¬†Could “abnormal” be anything¬†ranging from minor to severe? ¬†Who knows? ¬†But it does make the prospect of trying on our own that much more daunting.

It would seem something is going on with our female embryos.  So while I was thrilled with the outcome of the IVF and ACTUALLY BEING PREGNANT!!  I was also quietly mourning the possibility that we had just been handed yet another obstacle and told yet another thing my body cannot do; make a female baby.

I’ve since read that IVF can be tough on female embryos, which are more fragile. ¬†Especially with genetic testing, having to last outside the womb for 5 days is not an easy task (I can relate). ¬†But this seems to only account for a very small margin, about 1-2% in favor of male embryos.

BUT, there’s another factor that I think is terribly overlooked when it comes to male favorability in IVF. ¬†There are are many different protocols and techniques to¬†IVF. ¬†Over the several years of researching it and actually going through it myself I’ve spoken with¬†many¬†other women who have also gone through it. ¬†None of us had the same exact experience. ¬†One technique which can differ is the use of ICSI (Intracytoplasmic Sperm Injection) vs the dish method.

In the dish method an egg is introduced to a petri dish of sperm, the same way it would be inside the womb, so nature can take it’s course. ¬†In ICSI, under direct microscopic vision, an¬†embryologist chooses a single sperm and injects it into the egg. ¬†ICSI is typically used for male infertility, when there are few sperm or the quality of them is low. ¬†Our IVF clinic uses ICSI across the board, we did not get a choice in whether or not to use it. ¬†I believe this is because of the genetic testing.

Fertilization in a petri dish, just like in natural insemination, requires interaction between the sperm and cumulus cells that surround the egg.  There is a need to remove these cumulus cells in order to perform preimplantation genetic screening (PGS), and therefor it is left far less capable of being fertilized spontaneously.  Hence the need for further intervention (ICSI).

ICSI does have a higher pregnancy success rate, but you are also eliminating natural selection to some degree.  Eggs have ways of determining the best sperm and keeping those that have defects from passing through.  In ICSI, you have an embryologist basically eyeballing sperm and hand selecting one, and forcing it into the egg.  I believe they look for things like size and swimming strength, which could be why there is a higher occurrence of males?  Just a thought.

I’m totally fascinated by the science that brought us our baby, and I’m so grateful for it’s existence! ¬†I could happily read about IVF all day, if I wasn’t busy chasing around the product of it in the form of my 10 month old who is faster on all 4s than I am on my 2s. ¬†I would like to know the reason we had all male embryos, but it’s more due to my curiosity and thirst for knowledge when it comes to this stuff than anything else. ¬†It would also be nice to know that the cause is not an indication of something unhealthy that I may be passing down to my son. ¬†I would LOVE to have a daughter some day, but am perfectly happy being a #boymom forever.

 

 

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I’m back! And I’m a MOM!!

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Well, my sweet little rice traveler stuck! ¬†His name is River Blues and he is the sweetest, happiest baby in the whole world. ¬†He’s now 8 months old (I can’t believe it!) ¬†It’s been the most important year of my life since my last post, and I decided to come back to blogging for a couple reasons.

Since posting and being open about our struggle with infertility and having to do IVF, I’ve had SO many people reach out to me about going through the same. ¬†Both total strangers and people I know well who I had no clue were dealing with infertility have opened up to me about this very personal and difficult experience. ¬†It’s important to me to help whoever I can get through this. ¬†I hope our story can be inspirational. ¬†I also feel like I’ve learned SO much through our experience and hearing so many others’ stories.

I also had really bad postpartum depression after River was born. ¬†Since posting about it on Instagram, the same thing happened with people coming out of the woodwork to tell me about how they were experiencing the same thing! ¬†I know they say 1 in 7 women experience ppd, but I swear it seams like that number is actually much higher. ¬†I’ve become so passionate about spreading awareness about this issue because I had zero knowledge about it, and when it hit me that made it so much more terrifying.

I’m determined to keep putting these things out there to help as many people as possible. If you found this post and need someone to talk to about infertility, IVF or postpartum depression, please feel free to dm me on Instagram! ¬†@kateordie

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Ketchup

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I took a little break from blogging for the last couple weeks.  Today I am 3dp6dt!  Here are my updates!

Retrieval:

I don’t know why I was so worried about this. ¬†Actually, I take that back. ¬†I know EXACTLY why I worried. ¬†The thought of a foot-long needle going through my vagina, THAT was worrisome. ¬†I was hoping I would be out cold, but my nurse explained to me that I would be under “conscious sedation” which was explained to me as “you won’t be able to move or speak and you won’t remember a thing.” ¬†Uhhhhhh. ¬†Nuh. ¬†That does not sound right. ¬†Everyone assured me it would be fine. ¬†Going into the procedure, I was really trying to be brave, but I am a pansy. ¬†The Dr. came in and asked me if I had any questions and I said “Uh, yes. ¬†I’m concerned about this ‘conscious sedation’ stuff. ¬†I’ve heard I won’t be able to move or speak, but I’ve heard nothing about not feeling it, and all I can think of is that Metallica video.” ¬†He laughed. ¬†I was glad he got the reference. ¬†He assured me I would be “out” and wouldn’t feel a thing.

Long story short, he was right.  Next thing I knew, I was waking up.  Had a little bit of mild cramping, but totally livable.  I slept the whole rest of the day.

The Dr told me when I woke up that¬†he retrieved 11 eggs. ¬†I have to admit, I was a little disappointed with this number. ¬†I’m embarrassed to say that because I know so many women who get less, but I’ve also seen women get numbers in the 20s and 30s. ¬†And I just thought that because my ovaries were great and functioning normally and had nothing to do with our infertility, I would be in those high numbers.

Then the next morning my nurse called to tell me that out of the 11 eggs, only 6 had fertilized. ¬†We still had 5 days to make it until the PDG testing, and I knew that with each day as well as with the testing, those numbers were pretty surely going to continue to go down. ¬†They also told me that we wouldn’t have any more updates on the embryos until the day of our transfer, which seems kind of torturous. ¬†Seems like a pretty shitty day to be getting bad news, if there is any. ¬†I tried my best to keep my mind off of it, but who was I kidding?

Transfer Day!:

This day was pretty bittersweet. ¬†I had my acupuncturist, who I love, there working with me. ¬†She covered me in warm sheets and put a heating lamp on my feet and did her thing turning me into Hellraiser with her tiny needles. ¬†She then massaged me and even stuck a few needles in my husband to relax him, too. ¬†It was a great way to start off the day. ¬†Then the Dr. came in. ¬†I should mention that in one of our appointments with him last week, I told him very specifically that we did NOT want to know the gender of the embryos, we at least wanted that surprise. ¬†He totally understood and he said he would put it in our notes to make sure no one “spills the beans.” ¬†Imagine my dismay when the first thing he says when we walks in the room transfer day is “Well, I have some great news! ¬†You have 2 healthy boy embryos!” ¬†My heart fucking stopped. ¬†Did he seriously just say that? ¬†I looked at my husband who I could instantly tell was pissed as well and I just tried to smooth the situation. ¬†I said, “It’s ok, it’s ok. ¬†A boy!” ¬†But my husband said to the doctor, “wait, so you are telling us the sex now? ¬†We said we didn’t want that.” ¬†The doctor looked embarrassed and said, “Oh, I’m so sorry.” ¬†But there was nothing that could be done about it now and I just had to focus on being happy and ok with it.

I do believe everything happens for a reason, though. ¬†Since the boy cats were already out of the bag, I took a look at our PDG testing results. ¬†Very interesting. ¬†Only 5 embryos were tested so I guess 1 of the 6 didn’t make it to day five for testing. ¬†But here’s the thing that struck me. ¬†All 5 were male. ¬†Half of my eggs didn’t fertilize, statistically that would about the amount of female sperm used to inseminate them.

It scares me that we may never be able to have a girl. ¬†I am totally grateful for these 2 healthy boys, but having a girl at some point is also important to me. ¬†I don’t even know if this is something we can test for, because I don’t know what it is. ¬†I’m wondering if there is something genetic going on here that we don’t know about. ¬†I don’t even know what questions to ask or who to ask them to. ¬†I feel lost and I certainly don’t want to turn to Google and drive myself insane.

It was kind of a shame that there was kind of a dark cloud over such a happy day, but sometimes that is life. ¬†We chose to implant 1 embryo and freeze the other. ¬†It was a surreal experience. ¬†I got to watch this little guy enter my body through the ultrasound. ¬†He was in a little rice shaped vehicle that they use to transport them I guess. ¬†A little rice rocket, if you will. ¬†That made me super emotional. ¬†I had been trying to hold in tears of sadness from the moment the dr came in with his “great news” but the second I saw that little spec enter my body, tears of joy came pouring out of me.

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And Away We Go!

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Trigger shot was tonight! ¬†It’s moving a little faster than I was expecting after yesterday’s appointment. ¬†But it looks as though my retrieval will be Thursday now. ¬†I’m really excited, the only thing that is sort of a bummer is that my husband leaves tomorrow for the UK for 5 days to play a couple festivals, so he won’t be here for the retrieval. ¬†He should be back in time for the transfer, though, so that’s more important.

The trigger shots were not bad, I had to take 2 Ovidrel. ¬†I think the needles were a tiny bit thicker than the others I’ve been taking because they took me a lot longer to get in. ¬†The good news is that they didn’t sting at all like the Menopur. ¬†I’m starting to get REALLY nervous about the stupid Estradiol shots I have to do every 3 days starting the day after retrieval, though. ¬†They are the ones that have to go in the bum, and they are intramuscular. ¬†ūüė¶ ¬†I’m a bit of a control freak, I feel like even if my husband would have been here to give me all of my shots, I still would have wanted to do every one by myself. ¬†And I’m a total diaper baby when it comes to needles, getting the tiny ones in my blub is hard enough for me. ¬†I can’t imagine how I’m going to get these torpedos in my arse, especially without a running start or muchas margaritas.

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