First Day Of Injections

In an effort to keep you all completely informed of the ins and outs of this IVF cycle, I am delighted to share my experiences from my first day of injections. I aim to spare no precious details, my dear readers.

First of all, I must admit that as I suspected, I tossed and turned all night in anticipation of my first injection. I dreamed of dirty needles and being weak from loss of blood, among other unsettling things.

When I awoke, I discovered that I had started my period AGAIN. This basically makes...let's see...17 days STRAIGHT of either bleeding or spotting of some kind. Normally this would have freaked me right out, but I've calmly deduced that this second appearance of my period is probably due to the fact that I stopped the pre-IVF birth control pills on Monday. I guess I didn't expect to have a period after finishing the birth control because, well, I didn't think there was anything left to bleed! If anything, this is probably a good sign. It means my body is on the right cycle and responding well (so far - knock on wood) to the meds. Also, remember, this is the calm, still Hilary you're dealing with now.

I took a quick shower and came downstairs in my robe, all raring to go. I laid out the instructions and methodically set out all my supplies. I drew up the saline, carefully injected it into the dry Repronex and "swirled" the bottle around like the nurse showed me at orientation. However, this activity did produce copious amounts of tiny bubbles so either I swirled too hard or maybe the bubbles are unavoidable. I then drew up the fully mixed Repronex concoction into the syringe, switched needles and set the works down on the counter whilst I sterilized my pinched tummy-fold with an alcohol prep pad. My skin was ready to go. The needle was ready to go. Without hesitation, I went for it.

I was surprised that it hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. It was A LOT more uncomfortable this morning than it was during my "practice" injection at the clinic. I think it's because the real medication actually stings quite a bit; at the clinic I just used saline to practice. But I did it, and shouted a bold "woo-hoo!" so that my husband could hear my song of success from his office at the back of the townhouse. I really was proud of myself.

While walking to work shortly thereafter, I noticed a strange euphorically spacey feeling come over me. Almost like I had a little red-wine buzz going. Perhaps it was due the guided meditation in my iPod, the adrenaline, or perhaps to my relief in having the first injection over with. Maybe I was having my very first medication "mood swing", albeit a positive one. I felt good, confident and happy.

Notably, around 3pm today, I noticed I've developed a bit of irritation at the injection site. I'm not worried about it, I know this can happen. But I do wonder what my abdomen will look like after another week of this! Oooooh stomach acne. That's HOT.

Freak Show

In celebration and anticipation of starting my injections tomorrow, I just ate 2 HUGE brownies. I feel sick. But it was worth it.

In other news, here are two, um, unique - shall we say - search terms I just discovered that have led people to my blog:

1. "awful speculum"
2. "baby drinks asprin" (sic)

What kind of freak show am I running here, I ask you?!

**Legal Disclaimer**
People of the world, please do not allow your babies drink aspirin. Side effects may include dry mouth, headache, nausea, vomiting, constipation, diarrhea, rash, sweaty palms, fever, genital itching and death. In clinical trials, babies who drank aspirin did not fare well. This blog is for entertainment purposes only and is not intended to replace the advice of your doctor or healthcare provider. If you suspect that your baby has drunk aspirin, please do not search this blog (or the internet in general) for counsel; turn off your computer immediately and dial 9-1-1.

Thank you,
The Trying Game

A Stillness About You

Last night, at my acupuncture appointment, I talked to Dr. S about what he feels makes an IVF successful. His answer was outlook, spirit, age and response to treatment. When I prompted him to comment on what he thinks about MY chances, he said that he thought they were good because I have a very positive spirit. Then he said something that really blew my mind: He said, "Underneath everything, you have a stillness about you, and inner calm...you like to think you're more anxious than you really are."

Whoa. *Nuclear brain explosion* What a concept. Could it be true? Me??

I have not been able to shake this statement since. Is it possible that my anxiety is just some movie that's being projected on a still white screen? Could it be that all my worry is just waves and ripples of water that merely exist on the surface, high above the calm dark ocean floor? Is all this just one small aspect of my persona, that just happens to be loud enough to get the most attention? Am I really a "still" person underneath it all?

Aside from being, well, pretty much the best compliment I've ever received, Dr. S's words tapped into a level of my consciousness that I didn't even know existed. The idea that I deceive myself into thinking that I am this nervous wreck all the time is liberating and sad all at once. Sad, because the anxiety is just an illusion and I've been spending precious time cultivating this illusion. Sad, because I've been giving the squeaky wheel the grease for so long now, neglecting the rest of me.

It's time to focus on the stillness. Everything else is just details. I'm not just going to try to relax, I am going to be. Just be. Let's see what happens.

...Starting injections tomorrow!

Baby Saturation Point?

I feel weird today. Off. Not good. Not terrible. Just weird.

And a wee bit discouraged. Lately, it seems like just about everyone is turning up pregnant. My logical mind understands that this does not affect my chances; it's not like they are taking away from the world's quota of total allowable babies. Intellectually, I know that. But for some reason this makes me feel discouraged about my odds. Like, if everyone else is getting pregnant, how will there ever be room in the pregnancy club for me? If everyone else gets to have a baby, how can there be any babies left for me?

I know how this sounds. Stupid, right? Where do these crazy thoughts come from? Isn't this the silliest thing you've ever heard someone worry about? It's almost embarrassing to admit this out loud...er, I mean online.

I guess I'm just finding optimism to be a struggle today. *Sigh*

Until We Get Our Human Baby...

...I'll settle for this sweet thing!

Ya'll Know Me - Still Same Ol' G

Yes, despite my cheery outlook of late, the bitter, jealous, hideously wretched Hilary still looms under the surface.

We had our friends L and S over for dinner last night. This is "pregnant L" I'm referring to, mind you, the very same L who shared the same conception date as me. And while I went on to miscarry, L has continued on with her healthy pregnancy. L is now about 7 months along, and sporting a huge pregnant belly.

L is one of my best friends, and we see each other often. When I first miscarried, I couldn't see her for weeks, as her successful, ongoing pregnancy was a constant reminder of what I had lost. But as time passed and I started to heal a bit, my tolerance for seeing L got better. Over the last few months, I've been 98.5% OK with hanging out with L, especially since we've been moving forward with the IVF. I'm even happy for her, something I never thought would be possible. I've been very proud of myself for how much I've been able to tolerate, despite my fragile state.

However. Last night, we were all sitting on my big couch watching a movie. I sat next to L and somewhere half-way through the movie, I glanced at her giant protruding belly and watched as she gently rubbed it. As if she was already soothing and comforting her yet-to-be-born infant. This was a beautiful example of parental love and motherhood. And it made me jealous as hell. The pangs of jealousy and envy were so sudden and violent, that I actually had to get up from the movie and spend a few minutes in the kitchen by myself. I just felt so slighted. Sometimes I forget, in all my optimism and fortitude, that I am still somewhat of a wreck underneath it all.

After they left, I asked D if he thought I would have a giant belly like L in a few months. Without a moment's hesitation, he replied "Yes!" I asked him how he could be so positive. He answered, "It doesn't do us any good to think otherwise". This statement made me feel better and worse simultaneously.

I wonder, once I'm pregnant or even after I have a baby, will I still feel this instinctive bitterness toward pregnant women? I wonder, does this feeling ever go away? Or is it so deeply instilled in my being that this knee-jerk jealous reaction will always be part of my persona? I've changed 10,000 times since the miscarriage, and then again, not at all.

Tra-la-la

I feel really happy today.

It's Friday and the eve of a long weekend (hooray for Remembrance Day!). I have a lovely, relaxing weekend in store for myself and all is well in my world (*knocking on wood as I type this*).

I feel very well taken care of. The fertility clinic, my acupuncturist, my family, my husband and my friends have all been this wonderful fluffy, warm security blanket for me over the past few weeks. It is solely due to this comfort that everyone has provided that I feel so good and happy. I am enveloped in support.

I have kept myself to a very strictly nutritious diet over the past few weeks but this morning, I decided just to relax about all that stuff. Of course I'm still going to eat as healthfully as possible, I'm just not going to stress about it. I'm just not going to stress about anything. I'm done with all that.

I know as much as I can possibly know about this process. I am as healthy as I can possibly be right now. Anything that I have even a modicum of control over, is already controlled to the best of my abilities. Nothing left to do but sit back and allow this process to happen. I am surrendering to it all, and I must admit, it feels wonderful to relinquish the white-knuckle grasp that I've been maintaining. I'm letting it happen, letting it be, letting it go.