Today is a hard day. This may be filled with lots of whining and sporadic emotion.
The morning drive to Omaha was a foggy one. It was freezing fog that stuck to the trees and made for a beautiful view. A small comfort in the midst of stress and anxiety.
Gonal-F and Cetrotide were administered before we left for our appointment this morning. Hand-mixing the Cetrotide is a bit of a process and not my favorite thing to do. But it’s important, so it’s worth it.
Shortly after 8:30 we went back to have my blood drawn once again and begin our scan. It was during the scan where I realized I have made a grave mistake.
The level of discomfort bordered on severe pain as my swollen and tender ovaries were subjected to the pressure of being on my back for my scan. They’re too large now. I was fighting back tears as it took her ages to get the measurement of every follicle.
Having so many follicles is a blessing that not all people have during this journey. Taking 15 minutes to measure them all is a side effect I gladly take on. But today it was almost too much. All I wanted to do was sit up.
Unfortunately by the time I did get to sit up I had agitated my hard-working ovaries and this change in position barely provided relief. I continued to be subjected to discomfort the entire ride home.
The scan showed my lead follicles from 14-17 mm, a great success! They’re maturing right along. Unfortunately, we lost count while scanning so I can’t speak to how many are actually there.
After the doctors reviewed my images and my bloodwork they decided I am NOT quite ready to trigger yet - we need a little more time.
So, I am going back tomorrow for more bloodwork and yet another uncomfortable scan. This is a good thing. We want as much time as we can for as many follicles as possible to mature.
But I just need to whine. Because it’s 200 miles round trip. It’s uncomfortable to be in one position that long. Laying on my back is torture. My veins are tired of being poked for blood so often. This journey is *hard*.
I have found that I can no longer comfortably sleep.
I usually sleep on my stomach or my side. Sleeping on my stomach is no longer an option because it also puts pressure on my ovaries. I can sleep on my side but finding the exact angle that allows me comfort while sharing a bed with my spouse, our two dogs, and 1-3 cats at a time is borderline impossible.
I finally got some decent rest today when I took a nap all on my own, lots of room to lay at any angle required. Thank goodness.
Today I’m just feeling a lot. Physically I’m facing a lot of challenges that push my comfort zone and make me second guess why any of this is “fair” in the first place. Emotionally I’m frazzled and at the frayed ends of my capability. I’m sad, I’m scared. I hate this part. As much as I hate the shots and the swollen ovaries I don’t want this over. Once they take the eggs from me I have no control over anything. I just need to wait, and wait, and wait. And when the waiting is done we’ve always gotten bad news. My heart can’t take another round of bad news. We are at the beginning of where our demise always comes and I’m petrified of what comes next.
But in the middle of this experience and the ups and downs that comes with it I get a package in the mail from my best friend, Dani Victory
She’s been a constant in my life from age 19 to now. She’s seen me fight and overcome so many battles. She’s seen me soar and seen me stumble. She’s loved me through it all. And when I just needed her love and warmth more than ever - she shows up in my mailbox via this angel.
Pineapple is super trendy and holds meaning for dozens of groups out there. But for the infertility world, IVF especially, pineapple is important. According to an old wives’ tale eating a pineapple core for five days after your transfer will improve your changes of implantation. (Because of an enzyme called bromelaine).
If you’ve ever frequented any infertility group setting like a chat room, a forum, or a support group you’ve likely heard about this story. And from the tradition came a symbol to bring all of us together.
Infertility can be lonely - but the fact is 1 in 8 walk this same path. Through symbolism we can connect and be reminded we aren’t alone. Pineapples mean a lot to me.
They’re pointy, they can go through some battles. No matter what they face they stand tall and wear their crown. They’re sweet inside no matter how tough they’ve become to protect themselves from the outside.
It’s exactly how I feel after five years of infertility and multiple fertility treatments.
And now I have a little guardian angel holding a pineapple to watch over me while I get my shots in the kitchen. It reminds me of my strength. It reminds me that I’m not alone. It reminds me that I have friends - ones who will love me even if I let them down with our results again.
It reminds me that even if I’m crying most of my day away and I can’t process through everything, that I’m okay. And I’m doing just fine.