I went back for my 85th monitoring appointment this morning. My veins are so mad at me that I'm pretty sure they are on strike. My vag has been probed so many times with the cam that she is awfully pissed there hasn't been an offer of a dinner date. Or even a movie.
The ultrasound was up first today. There has been some small progress with the ove's. There are now 3 measurable follies on the left and 4 measurable follies on the right. She said there were multiple ones on the left that were less than 12mm and 6 on the right that were less than 12mm. I have been chatting with them lately telling them to get their asses in gear. The numbers of follies is great; it's the size that needs to improve.
Whoever said size didn't matter was lying.
Vein assault was next. I had the joy of being stuck twice this morning. The first vein she tried has officially said FU to the lovely phlebotomists at my center. It is closed for business. She found another one toward the top of my arm and did a little digging to get the butterfly needle deep enough to pierce it. The digging was awesome I tell you.
The proof is in the bandages. Just another war wound to add to the list.
I am nannying this week and next. The family I work for is fantastic and I am so lucky to be able to share with them what is happening. They are so understanding and have been so flexible with me needing time off in the near future for the retrieval and transfer. Look, that whole paragraph was positive and didn't include one whine!
To counter that Pollyanna paragraph, I'm going to tell you what is happening in the side effects department. There is really only one new joy to add to the list, but it's a doozie.
So, here goes.
I am extremely aware of my ovaries. I don't just mean that I think about them way more than is normal for any sane person. I mean I can feel them growing. Starting last night, I have been having these strange feelings in my lower abdomen. I described it to my mother tonight as such, "It feels like period cramps, combined with needing to poop, combined with eating too much and drinking a ton of beer. It's a full feeling." It's not painful, just uncomfortable. I know it's going to get worse too. Clearly none of this compares to the pain of childbirth, which I am paying thousands of dollars to experience some day, so I really shouldn't bitch and moan too much over here. But I am. And will most likely continue to. You're over it.
I heard back from the nurse this afternoon while I was at Barnes and Noble with the kiddos. My super nice nurse said to keep stabbing myself with the same meds and set me up with another monitoring appointment for Wednesday morning. Which means retrieval will not be until Friday at the earliest. I totally forgot to ask her what my E2 level was as I was trying to wrangle three kids under 7 away from the plethora of toys at Barnes and Noble (isn't this supposed to be a book store?!). So, more waiting. I really do appreciate the fact that I am doing this crazy stuff during the summer while I'm not teaching because I don't know how people with jobs do this. This IVF shit is a full time job.
I leave you with the proof of my vein assault and funny image that pretty much sums up this awesome IVF journey.
Bruise #129. My body hates me and the general public thinks I'm being domestically assaulted.
Stolen from here
Hubs promised me froyo after my Follistim shot. I'm off to require him make good on that promise.