I've been duped. Our first week of shots during the suppression stage of this process seriously had me thinking this wasn't so bad and that I wasn't going to feel like a human pincushion. I was wrong. We started the second round of drugs this week, the stimulation phase after we got the all clear from the post cyst blood tests. This means instead of just one little shot in the evenings I now have one in the morning and two at night. During the suppression stage I was taking oral birth control and 10 units of Lupron. The Lupron is given in the evenings with this little tiny insulin needle, it's so small and easy I've even given them to myself. I was starting to feel like a pro with this shot and even started to get a little cavalier about the upcoming injections. My attitude changed drastically with my first Menopur shot Saturday morning. Brady has to give me these shots because, well that is what we decided at the beginning, he was the one who was paying attention in class on both how to draw and administer all the injections and the Menopour is a little complicated. This shot includes two vials of medicine that needs to be mixed with diluent, because we need things to be more confusing. Saturday morning arrives and Brady gets the shot ready, I have this thing where I don't like to look when getting shots (or blood draws) so I lay down and expose my tummy and put a pillow over my eyes. I know, I'm a huge baby, I've accepted this fact and am ok with it. Brady finds a good spot (this will become harder in the coming days due to injection site sensitivity) and goes in with the "dart like" motion he was trained to use and I kind of come unglued. This is not a tiny little insulin needle, this is a whole new rodeo. This is also more than 10 units, so in addition to a much larger needle, the shot takes much longer to administer. I am tensing up and squeezing Brady's arm and whimpering. I know this isn't helping Brady at all but I can't help it. When the shot is done I sit up and look at Brady, he looks as miserable as my now punctured tummy feels. We both feel relived that it's done and take a deep breath. I look down and see that I'm bleeding. This hasn't happened with any other injections thus far and I'm a little freaked out if this is a sign of things to come. I put a compress on my injection site and have a cup of coffee, which happens to be another point of contention with this whole process (the doc wants me to have no more than one 8 oz cup per day) and try to enjoy the fact that I have 12 hours before my next injections. I get up and head to the shower where I discover another fun fact about the shots. In addition to the injections the docs have me taking an oral steroid and baby aspirin. The aspirin thins the blood and helps with blood flow to the uterus and also makes me bruise like a peach. Awesome. Brady's dart skills have left me with a nice little bruised spot just to the left of my belly button. I look down at my legs and discover that my omnipresent clumsiness has wrecked havoc on my legs and arms, I am covered in bruises and dark spots. I reach for my lotion with self tanner and hope to camouflage the map of splotches on my body and tell myself that I'm going to have to be more conscientious of my surroundings if I am going to make it through this with people not thinking Brady is beating me. The evening shot goes a little smoother, the downside to this injection is that it is administered with this wanna be high tech pen like apparatus, the needle is slightly smaller than the Menopur injection but the Follistim pen takes just as long to inject and it actually feels longer because the pen makes this little click click noise as the plunger is depressed, marking in time each unit injected.
Three days later and the injections are getting a little easier to take, I still get this little frown look when Brady tells me it's shot time. Shot time used to mean tequila, now it means egg growing drugs and considerably less headaches. My stomach is a virtual astrological map of puncture marks and bruises and is tender to the touch. Each morning and night we have to find a spot that isn't too sore for the new injection. Leaning against counters or carrying grocery bags hurts and I find myself holding my tummy allot, as if to protect it. Tuesday morning I went in to see the Magic Man for my first stimulation check and things are looking great. I have five nice size follicles in each ovary and my progesterone and estrogen are at great levels. The doc is pleased, he smiles and shakes my hand and I tell him that I am on to their little game of starting off with the small needles. He laughs and tells me "just wait, you haven't seen anything yet". He is trying to be funny but I know what lies ahead. I know about the 21 gauge needles waiting for me at home, the intramuscular shots that take ONE WHOLE MINUTE to inject because the progesterone is in oil, and I decide that maybe these shots aren't so bad after all. Maybe that was his intention because while he is a great RE a comedian he isn't.
I also went and saw my acupuncturist on Tuesday, because clearly I haven't had enough needles in my body. She is freaking awesome and we work out a schedule so that she can see me immediately before egg retrieval and both before and after the implantation. My days are a filled with apts lately, this whole process is like a full time job. When I stopped working I was looking forward to not having to commute from Forest Grove into downtown and yet I am still driving into NW every other day for ultrasounds and blood draws, and now into NE for the needle lady, how did I ever think I was going to be able to work full time and do this? I am reminded that everything happens for a reason and I try to just take each day as it comes and face each shot one at a time. This is hard for me, I'm always trying to think one day ahead and whats next, so I guess I will be grateful that I can walk away from this whole process with a new found appreciation for living in the now.
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