The box of medication arrived and my husband was amazing enough to disassemble it while I was at work. He knew that seeing the size of the box would intimidate me, and if he could separate the meds without me present, the shots would not seem so daunting. I bought bandaids, gauze, alcohol wipes, travel pouches, and ziplock bags to store the needles. I made calendars and visuals in order to help keep organized and avoid any mistakes. This is not like missing a daily vitamin. One small error could cost you eggs, and essentially a baby. I was trying to maintain the minimal amount of control that I had. I was able to learn about one person I knew who had gone through IVF and I reached out to her with some questions to help prepare.
Since I did not know anyone else who had experienced IVF, I was desperate to find others who could relate. I started looking up hashtags on Instagram and discovered all sorts of women who were in similar situations as me. It was amazing to connect with others who understood even a fraction of what we were going through.
Jeff agreed to administer all the shots, and he rearranged his travel schedule to accommodate this. We were ready to start the process of what building our family would look like for us. The first night was here and I set an alarm, iced the area, had my ziplock full of items, and placed the buzzy bee (a gift from a friend) next to the spot that was targeted for injection. We put Tom Petty “Won’t Back Down” on in the background and I braced myself. Jeff stuck me and as he pulled away, he cried. He hated the fact that I had to endure needles; that I had to face one of my greatest fears; the one thing that I said I would never do. I surprised myself. No tears. I was brave. Not because I found some kind of inner strength but because I didn’t have any other choice.
My protocol included 375 follistim at night (which was injected using a pen and sometimes meant 2 needles for 1 dose of medication). After a few nights, we added in 75 menopur and then a shot of cetrotide in the mornings. This meant that some days I had 4 needles. Bloodwork and ultrasounds occur every other day before work, and they monitor your follicles until they get to a certain size.
During these 12 days of “stims” we were thrown a few curveballs.
– We had a power outage, and it threw our routine out the window! No ice pack to numb the area beforehand, and we were forced to keep the medication in a cooler!
-We had a rehearsal dinner one night, and did the shot in the parking lot of a restaurant. We laughed and said that we hope no one saw us and thought we were drug addicts!
-We went to a wedding and I had to call the coordinator ahead of time and ask for a private space to inject needles, other than the bridal suite where anyone could come in. She was very kind and noted a locker room we could use. When that day came, my ovaries were enlarged with super eggs, so the dress was a little snug. I wore spanx (which proved later to be difficult to have on when you have to have your husband inject 3 needles in your stomach.) I also had severe back pain that day.
Most women “stim” with needles for 8-10 days and I take 12…figures. After those 12 days, we were directed to administer a trigger shot of HcG at a precise time at night, and then exactly 36 hours later your retrieval is scheduled. My Dr. was now out on maternity leave and I was switched over to a new Dr.
November 12th: We show up super early for the egg retrieval and sign in. They wish you luck and send you upstairs in the next waiting room. A nurse comes to greet me and tells Jeff to stay until he is called to “do his part”. I am brought to a small room where they check height, weight, prep for the anesthesia, and sign consent forms. Once the OR is ready for me, they walk me in and I hop on the table. I lay awake as the team positions my legs and I slowly drift off, anxious about how many eggs they will collect.
When I awake, I am being wheeled into the post-op waiting area. The nurses are incredibly kind and offer me crackers and juice. 10 eggs. Completely surprising for a diagnosis of diminished ovarian reserve! The next day the lab calls to say that 9 eggs were mature and 9 fertilized! That was egg-cellent news! (see what I did there?!) The next few days are stressful because you want to make sure the fertilized eggs grow into blastocysts. (You can call on days 2 and 3, but not 4.) Each day we call the lab and hold our breath to hear how they are doing. On the fifth day, we had only 1 blastocyst, but they would see how the others make out with one extra day. On the sixth and final day, we had 2 more blastocysts! That meant that three embryos would be sent out for testing. (Some couples would just implant these embryos on this day, or others might just freeze them and move straight to a frozen transfer. However, since we have had miscarriages, they recommended sending them out for Pre-Genetic Screening (PGS). 75% of miscarriages are caused by chromosomal abnormalities. If they can test our embryos ahead of time to make sure that they have 23 chromosomes from Jeff, and 23 from me, then we have a better chance of them implanting and leading to a pregnancy.)
More waiting….On November 30th, we received a phone call notifying us of the results: 2 out of 3 were chromosomally normal. This was more than they had expected for someone with dismissed ovarian reserve. However, the RE noted that during the procedure, she did not like the look of the cyst and advised us that we should have it taken out immediately. We headed back to the oncologist, and booked my surgery for the week of Christmas vacation (so that I am taking out as little days as possible from work). We wait, and continue to pray that the cyst will be benign. We take a deep breath and put all of our hope and faith in God’s plan.
Jesus Take the Wheel by Carrie Underwood
“Jesus, take the wheel
Take it from my hands
‘Cause I can’t do this on my own
I’m letting go
So give me one more chance
And save me from this road I’m on
Jesus, take the wheel.”
breakdown and rally 