Suck it up, princess

Currently waiting for the nurses phone call. Again.

I feel like I’m at the weigh in on the Biggest Loser, but my
numbers haven’t appeared yet. My team have been working really hard, doing
exactly what the coaches say to do. Injections by the clock, healthy meals, no
alcohol, ran 21km last week plus a boxing class, drinking water. Refused the
“temptation” challenge, got our eyes on the prize. I’ve done the breaking down
and balling my eyes out on camera, I’ve done the “how the hell did I get in
this state amateur psychoanalysis with the personal trainer on national TV”.
And I’ve got back up again. I’ve stepped on the scales, and they’ve just thrown
to an ad break. Again.

Or maybe I’m at a rose ceremony in “the Bachelorette”, and  there’s ten girls, one bloke, and one rose…and me and the doc have not had  any “alone time” of late, so my chances are looking bad compared to the other  younger perkier contestants. They flash past footage of my earlier partners  when I refused to settle down, summarising my life til now in a simple linear  plotline. By now, I should be seeing the error of my ways.

For once, sitting in my office and marking today was  excellent. Marking requires about 90% of my brain at any given moment, and it  really helps those hours fly. Never thought I’d say I was glad to have marking.
But I’ve finished it, in record time, with laser like concentration. So now I’m
sitting at my desk bloody waiting.  I’ve  already tried the anticipatory phone call…they wouldn’t have a bar of it. I’m  back waiting.

I have found I’m a little more spacey than normal. Mid  phrase in a lecture, my mind wanders off to injections or blood tests ,or more  often than that, just stops.  My mind has
a lot more semicolons than in its normal sentences. I have a lot more moments  where my mind just steps off a cliff, road runner style, and just hangs in mid  air for quite a long time. I should check the roof of my office for a large  metal object with ACME written on the side.

Is there any evidence  IVF makes you lose IQ points?

The weekend went a bit pear shaped on Saturday. It was a “up  the dose your bloods are not doing what we want” call at midday Saturday. The  nurses through this information out like bird seed, and I’m the proverbial  pigeon. They think nothing of it, but for you, the pigeon, it’s bloody  everything at that moment. You peck at every bit you can get, you try and eat  the inedible, just in case. You stock up information from their calls like
you’ll never get another chance, cause hell, it’s better than Google. I was
really upset after their call. I am just not sure yet whether I had good reason
to be. Sometimes on this not so merry go round you don’t even realise when
you’re on a hair trigger response til someone gets shot, metaphorically.

After a bit of probing I got the phrase “if it does not  improve we may just have to try again another month”. This I heard as “we may  have to cancel this cycle”. My estrogen levels are not going up as much as they  would like.  I will be well pissed if I’ve  gone through these injections and trying to set up my work schedule for this  whole thing for nada, diddly squat, big fat nuthin. It’s one thing to get to  the end of the cycle and fail, it’s another not to even make it that far.

I feel like I’ve failed at natural conception. We’ve already  had one big fat failure. To not even MAKE it to egg collection at IVF, to not  even get a CHANCE at conception would be too much.

I am uncomfortable in the hands of experts. I’m an  intelligent woman, I like to make informed choices. I like to understand what  is happening, to have the information so I can anticipate the possible  outcomes. But with this process so far, it’s like being on a conveyor belt. You  just get on when they say, get off have bloods done. Get back on til they say,
get off have a scan. Then wait til they tell you to get back on. IF they tell  you to get back on. There is little acknowledgement of the emotional content of  the journey. It is all procedure, all process.  I want to be engaged, educated, informed…after  all we are trying to create our child here. I am, instead, shuffled.

Phew got the call. Estrogen levels looking “fine”. Head OFF  the executioner’s block for the time being, same level of injections, scan on  Wednesday.

Today I had a scan…come here, let me wave my magic wand up you!  Hello? You could at LEAST buy me drink first! I had 6 follicles on each  side. This was fewer than I expected, as when I had the Hy-Co-Sy they saw 13 on  one side and 14 on the other. The Hy cosy was
a) PCOS in action and b) not all of them make it through that early part  of your cycle. So I guess this means the maximum we can get is 12 (hey it’s a  carton of eggs…though I’d say under these conditions they’re cage eggs, high  on hormones, not my normal free range organic numbers from happy hens!) and  realistically we’re probably looking at 7 or 8. Not quite the bumper crop I was  hoping for, but better than a cancellation. I still look like a bunch of grapes  down there.

A bit more seed for the bird..peck peck peck..the nurse says  “make sure you’re drinking HEAPS of water. And keep up the fibre – don’t get  constipated. And take panadol or Padadeine for the pain”. Hang on a tick,  birdseed lady, pain? What pain? I am not in any! So I asked:

“so is it gonna get ugly then, in the next few days?” and  she just laughed / snorted.

Hmmm. Thanks for that nurse Tina. Well if the pain is for a  reason, I can cop it, and I’d rather pain than a cancelled cycle.

Suck it up,  princess.

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