IVF Day 8, Day 6 of Stims!

I’m stimming!!!!! I have been for 6 days now, actually. At this exact moment in time I have self-administered 14 subcutaneous (in my stomach) shots intended to stimulate my follicles and grow many eggs. Fourteen shots straight into my body! I’ve had three blood draws and 3 ultrasounds over the past…3 days. I go in every day to be monitored to see how my body is reacting to the Menopur, Gonal F, and Cetrotide injections. I take a steroid pill with breakfast each morning (started on IVF Day 1) to help the medication disperse more evenly among the follicles. On day 4 of stimming I was instructed to add a Cetrotide shot into my daily routine to prevent me from ovulating too soon as I have a couple of larger follicles that want to release an egg too soon. I was surprised to learn that I’d be adding that in so quickly as I was expecting to be stimming for 10 days. The addition of Cetrotide came with the news that I was ‘coming out hot’ according to my nurse. We laughed together and it felt gratifying to have good news resting in my ears as she instructed me on how to mix the Cetrotide and inject it immediately after hanging up the phone.

My morning routine begins just before 6:30 am because the Cetrotide has to be taken that early. So, I wake up and take a thyroid medication that has to be taken on an empty stomach. My husband grabs the Cetrotide from our garage refrigerator and I down as much water as I can take while trying to wake myself up enough to mix the medication and inject myself somewhere on my stomach where there’s an open space. (Staying hydrated is key to feeling good during this part of IVF.) I learned that if I inject this medication slowly that it itches less after I pull the needle out. The first time I self-administered this guy I was left with a red splotch that turned into a welt and itched for a couple of hours. As of today, I feel like a pro as I sing, ‘You Are My Sunshine’ while pushing the medication through the syringe to remind me to go slowly…I similarly learned this lesson with the Menopur. Which is what I mix (2 vials) next at around 7:30am (because the Menopur in the morning has to be done 12 hours a part from the Gonal F in the evening). Menopur and I will share a special bond until the end of my days because it was the first shot I ever gave to myself. My husband and I watched the online tutorial (We watched it several times before this moment) as I mimicked each step with my own two hands. And then the time came when there was nothing left to do, but poke myself. I counted to three several times and hesitated. Later, my husband told me that watching this immediately took him back to the videos he’d watched of my high jumping days in high school and how I would sometimes run up to the bar and pull away MANY times before I’d actually pull the trigger and jump the damn bar. I’m happy to report that I was far more decisive with this first injection than I was as a high jumper. Anyway, I was pleasantly surprised to see the needle head in my belly and realize that it was actually fairly painless. It became apparent that my infertility warrior friends were accurate in that the Menopur burns as it goes in. Ouch. But not a huge ouch. Not the ouch I had built up in my freaked out head two months ago. After this shot I take the steroid pill with breakfast and I’m free until 7:30 pm until I have to take the Gonal F out of the refrigerator for 30 minutes and then administer that shot. This one is much simpler because there is no mixing. It’s a pre-filled pen and my dosage of 75 IU’s is quick and the least painful of all.

Ok, so ‘free’ is a relative term, I suppose. Starting on IVF Day 6 I began going in each morning to have an ultrasound (quite a treat to finally not be on my period while having this done) where my follicles are counted and measured. All of them. I am quite fond of the woman who’s been there each day with me. Today she asked me, ‘Has anyone has ever told you that you look like Helen Hunt?’ See, I am a regular now and we can have small talk and make witty banter back and forth as she’s sky high in my uterus. And, yes. Yes, I have heard this comparison my entire life and I will take it. I like Helen Hunt. Next, I am ushered downstairs to have my blood drawn. This is my least favorite part of the stimming process. My veins are ready and easily accessible, but it is more painful to me than the shots. The phlebotomist now calls me ‘Brave!’ because I no longer need to lie down while having my blood drawn. I want to tell her that I have always been ‘brave,’ but that I am now just desensitized to it. I never wanted to be, but I am. So, I sit like a good patient and she distracts me while my veins beg me for a few seconds to reconsider this process. I leave and say, ‘See you tomorrow!’ And then I wait…each day I am beholden to the afternoon call to let me know the morning’s results. Each afternoon has been positive so far, but I am not naive to the fact that this could all go ‘wrong’ over night and the whole thing cancelled. I try to be grateful for each successful conversation. I lean into the hope that I hear on the other end of the phone and from the amazing communication of support I continue to receive from my people. The bloating, fatigue, and discomfort that I feel are reminders that my body is working hard. I try not to think of everything that can go wrong.

In therapy today my therapist asked me how I was feeling about not being able to have my husband in the operating room with me during my egg retrieval. We’ve processed through this fact several times, but we were here again today because now it is almost real. I have 19 follicles and they are planning my retrieval to be either Saturday or Sunday morning…most likely (cause nothing’s a guarantee, right?!). My husband will have to administer my ‘trigger’ shot one evening this week. An intramuscular injection called Leuprolide. And 36 hours later I will be sitting in the waiting room waiting for the same routine I’ve witnessed for months to be happening to me…for me…for us. When it comes time to part and I have to walk back by myself without my rock, my safety, my home, I will have SOCKS! This was my therapist’s idea and I love it. All I can wear (of my own) in the operating room are socks and so my husband and my daughter are out shopping as I type to pick out a fabulous pair of socks that I can wear on my feet during the retrieval. I will look at them and I will know they’re with me even though I will be scared. Wearing funky socks during this procedure is a tradition for women going through IVF and I’m grateful to my therapist for coming up with a way for me to participate. I cannot wait to see what my two loves bring back for me! Our daughter has grasped every opportunity to give me ‘extra love’ because I’m being ‘brave’ right now. She knows I am giving myself shots and going to the doctor, but she does not know the cause. One day I will tell her the story of this time in our lives and I know that I will forever remember the pride I felt as she handed me tokens of love to commemorate my bravery. No amount of pain will ever be able to erase that kind of blinding joy.

*I am grateful for that my body is responding well to my shots and for the incredible support I am receiving from my family, friends, and neighbors. I am truly grateful.