Ah yes...here we are again, popping pills, sticking needles in the abdomen, and resting comfortably in the stirrups. It's been too long.
Today is cd3. Thank you to all of those who offered up the advice that no dumbass, spotting does not count as day one. I think The Dude probably even had an idea. Well, if the very thought of menstrual blood didn't make him get the vapours that is. I'm sure there were dozens of women reading that post that found me a disgrace to infertiles everywhere, for which I almost apologise for my ignorance.
Today I had my first onset-of-IVF WHYBAML appointment. Last night I dreamt that The Dude went to the appointment and was miraculously knowledgeable on all matters gynocological with a specialisation in IVF. In this dream he countered everything WHYBAML said, often offering an alternative to whatever treatment protocol WHYBAML suggested. In the end WHYBAML agreed with him, and it led to me laying on a table with some sort of barrel type contraption underneath me whilst The Dude and WHYBAML fondled antiquated medical instruments and discussed their next course of action. See, this is why I like the fact that The Dude barely even knows what a vagina is.
I sighed in relief tonight when I realised my dream would not come to fruition, as The Dude asked WHYBAML: "Is the retrieval (score! Who knew he was even aware such a term existed?) likely to be on a weekday? If so, when they put them all back in at the thing...the...the...putting them back in time, can that sometimes fall on a weekend?" Aww...bless. "The putting them back in time." I did whisper, "TRANSFER", but he looked at me like, "Shut up woman! I know of what I speak!"
Nothing exciting about day three scans. I am still enamoured of WHYBAML, as he told me not to worry when I apologised for sending him three emails and leaving one voicemail over the fiasco that is spotting day 1 vs proper day 1. When I asked if my posterior ovary would cause problems in retrieval, he said that it wouldn't, as "you're anaesthesised anyway, so they just jam that needle around in there until they get what they want...haha", and then he patted my shin reassuringly. Thankfully I shaved.
My next scan is on Tuesday. Until then, I am shooting up 125iu of Puregon every night, and popping a Letrozole as well for good measure. I felt like a delirious junkie tonight when I jabbed the needle full of Puregon into my more-than-an-inch, because I enjoyed it far more than I should. I have bruised before because I left the needle in too long due to staring at the whole procedure in amazement. I know, I need to find a hobby that doesn't involve needles and fertility drugs.
I did ask WHYBAML if he could write a letter stating briefly that I would need post-op recovery and may be off work for a couple of days. He said that he is accostomed to writing non-specific gyno problem letters, but I asked him to drop any mention of gyno issues. I mentioned the work situation and how I refused to divulge that information, and he agreed that it was none of their fucking business. Uh, yeah...WHYBAML kinda rules. For the record, he said it in a far more diplomatic manner. He is English, remember. If he did have to tell them it was none of their business, it would probably be to the effect of "I do beg your pardon. Kindly refrain from enquiring as to the nature of Ms Prufrock's procedure. 'Tis a private matter that does not concern her employer. I humbly request your understanding in this rather delicate and personal situation. Kindest regards, WHYBAML"
So that's where everything stands at the moment. I am sometimes struck with disbelief that I am at this point in the infertility roundabout. 27 and at the final procedure already. It's grim. Obviously I can carry on going in a circle, IVF 2, 3, 4, 5 and so on. It's the next step that I'm debating at the moment, and it's a topic for yet another day. I've been rolling the ideas around in my head without much clarity, so any post will probably just be random thoughts spewed in a blog post. Nothing new there. You lucky people. If it's not inane rambling, it's me waxing lyrical on the Puregon Pen. It's a surprise anyone is even reading this thing anymore. At least weary internet travellers searching for "fucky mother", "vegetable insertion" and "wife won't do what I tell her to" will still find their way here. Thank heavens for small mercies, eh?