Since my last post we started taking 3 shots a night, adding Ganirelix (to make sure I don’t ovulate prematurely). I. Feel. Like. A. Human. Pincushion. Between the shots, the bloodwork, and the flu shot I threw in for good measure….there seems to always be a needle being shoved into my skin.
Last night was a rough one for a few reasons. I decided to start watching the series “Call the Midwife”, which chronicles the life of a young midwife in 1950’s east London. You would think watching all the babies being born would be what upset me, but no. There was a man that reminded me of my dad who ended up dying from gangrene after having his legs amputated (because his tenement was torn down and NOBODY TOOK CARE OF HIS ABSSESSES IN THE NURSING HOME!!!!) which sent me into an emotional tailspin. I spent a large part of the rest of the night hysterically crying because at some point in the far future my dad will eventually die, and my mom will eventually die, and my brother will eventually die, and Chase will eventually die and Bryan “BETER NOT DIE BEFORE ME”…irrational with a capital I. Hormones.
My hyper-emotional state made the shots sting a little bit more. After the menopure I definitely cried again. It BURNS so much, I am pretty sure yesterday I screamed “GET IT OUT OF ME!” like one second after Bryan jabbed me.
On the bright side, the extreme suck that comes along with the menopure makes the third shot seem like a vacation. I actually can’t wait for the third shot (Ganirelix) because it doesn’t hurt as much, that means the menopure is over, and it’s all easy peasy lemon squeezy from there.
There is another bright side that has emerged from all of this, and that is the gratitude I have for what has become our family routine in this journey. Bryan jabs me every night at 9:45. Around 9:30 he starts prepping alllll of the needles while I light a candle and sanitize my buzzy (still a little machine sent from the heavens). Chase takes his seat at the head of the table, and watches over pretty much everything that goes on. We start with the gonal, I grit my teeth through the meopure, and I begin to feel a little bit of excitement as Bryan jabs me with Ganirelix. Bryan hands me a gauze pad if I am bleeding while he tells me how proud he is of me, my buzzy ices the injection sites, and we clean up.
After the shots, the whole family climbs into bed and we watch “The Ranch”…a kinda sorta OK show starring Ashton Kutcher. We started watching “The Ranch” by accident, and it has now somehow become my comfort show-nudging out Big Bang theory (which I thought would neeeeeverrrrrr happen). I love these moments with Bryan…they feel like victory. We survived another night of shots, we are one day closer to Baby Shanahan, and we did it together.
I look forward to these moments every night…they have become such an important and meaningful time for us…and without all of this, without the struggle and the shots-I would probably still take this time together for granted.
It’s not ALL bad. Tonight was a good night (despite a quick Valentine’s Day fiasco which involved me sitting on a broken chair at dinner and a three hour meal). The shots still sucked, but there were no tears…in fact, I was smiling and dancing the entire time. Side note, it is NOT a good idea to dance when getting jabbed in the belly. Bryan bought me a bangin box of handmade chocolate with the intention of giving me one piece after each shot as a reward (#IVFValentinesDay), and as I type we are all watching “The Ranch”. I am so lucky.
We go for bloodwork and an ultrasound tomorrow. If things look good we could trigger tomorrow night and the retrieval will be Saturday. It’s all happening so fast!