Shots. Everybody!

The day all of my IVF medication arrived was a really overwhelming day. There were alcohol wipes, huge needles, small needles, pills, it was a lot to process. I had no idea what any of it meant, where any of it went, I just had an oh shit moment. How was I going to do this?

We had taken a month to do all of the necessary pre-testing, including a really uncomfortable mock transfer and biopsy of the lining. When they tell you to take Tynol before that procedure, do yourself a favor… TAKE IT! They had everything on the screens, so I could see exactly what they were doing, but I could hardly breathe, let alone pay attention to what was happening inside my lady parts.

We went over my IVF timeline, with my IVF nurse, including the week of my potential retrieval. It was all becoming so real. We were taken into the instruction room to go over all of the new medicine. One of the shots I had to mix up myself, because that’s the way it gets sent out. As if IVF patients, don’t have enough on their plate already. I was instructed to take my Gonal F injection, which I was familiar with, and Menopur for handful of days. The doctors were going to be monitoring me very closely, and said they would let me know when it was time to add an additional shot. I did as I was told every night for seven days. On day eight, it was time for my trigger shot. Our retrieval was going to be in two days. It all seemed too fast. At one point, they had to dial my meds back because my follicles were growing so quickly. I was so bloated. I was ready for it all to be over. The trigger shot came with a strict set of rules. I was instructed to give myself the shot at 9PM. Not a minute later. Timing was everything. This made my nervous. The night of my trigger, I had to work late. I got home around 8:15. I made myself something quick to eat, looked at the clock and just like that, it was 8:55. I started to get everything ready. I pulled the syringe a little too hard, and the entire needle came apart and fell onto the ground. I began to panic. Mike told me I had 90 seconds. I quick grabbed another syringe, sucked out the liquid, didn’t even check to see if the medicine made it into the needle, and gave myself the poke. I was a minute late. I wasn’t confident I received the dose I was instructed to give myself. I burst out in tears. It wasn’t good enough. I did so well this whole time, I came this far, and I blew it at the end. I was devastated. Mike kept assuring me I did everything right and on time, but I knew he was just trying to make me feel better.

The next day we drove to Marlton for bloodwork. I shared my concerns with the nurse. She told me it was perfectly fine. She said as long as I wasn’t 30 minutes late giving myself the trigger shot, I was fine. She said the timing is very important, but one minute before or after wouldn’t harm anything. I was so relieved. She said if anything went wrong, they would be able to tell in my bloodwork. That afternoon, they called me to assure me everything went just right. Phew! We went over the game plan for my retrieval, which was scheduled for the next morning. I was reminded to not eat or drink anything past midnight. I made sure I drank lots of water, and Mike and I went out for a really nice dinner filled with protein. I then got myself ready for bed nice and early. This time tomorrow, my kids would be forming in little peetrie dishes. I fell asleep dreaming of what they would some day look like.