When I have my implantation procedure, it will be about 2 weeks before we can tell if it worked or not.
So just a little different from Phoebe sitting on her head and getting two lines just hours after her procedure on Friends.
Two weeks is a long time when you are waiting to see if your dreams have come true or been crushed. I have a feeling those two weeks are going to be excruciating as I am vying for any and all distractions from the one and only thing that really matters.
As of today, I am two weeks out from starting my injections. I thought about it this morning, and realized it's kind of like a practice wait for me. I’m feeling a lot better than I was last week; more calm and ready. Less anxious and unsure.
But I do still hate this two week wait. It feels like I’m not doing anything in the interim. Like there is nothing I can actively pursue to ensure my success.
I’m just waiting. In a holding pattern until I get released from the starting gate.
And the view from back here is getting awful boring.
I did get a call from the doctor’s office today to schedule some appointments. I have my suppression check on the 25th to ensure that I am good to go for injection startup on the 28th. I’m going to need lots of fingers and toes crossed for that one, because if something delays this cycle at that point I might just end up in bed with an entire gallon of ice cream and a brick of cheese.
Yes. A plain brick of cheese. That is how I roll.
Assuming all goes well though, I will start hormones after a few days and will be on a plane a week later. First for Denver, and then for Seattle.
They tried to schedule me for injection training as well today, and I had to laugh. I reminded the nurse that I’ve been through this twice before now; that I could probably teach the injection training with how many times I have stuck myself.
Yes, I was on the other side (the donor side), but I’m pretty sure the injections are still the same. And even though it’s been a few years, I’m fairly certain that nothing has changed. Twist the needle on the med pin, pinch your stomach fat, and plunge.
Kind of like riding a bike.
The nurse agreed with me after I reminded her of my donation history, and we canceled that appointment.
It was the first time I had talked to this nurse though, and there was hesitation in her voice when I mentioned my donations. It’s the same reaction I almost always get. This tone that says all on its own “You donated your eggs? How is that even possible? And how sad for you now.” I feel the urge to explain that I was in perfect health then every time. That obviously no doctor would ever allow me to donate now. But what’s the point really? There is no denying the severe irony that I helped a couple conceive two perfect children, and now here I am in their shoes; unable to conceive on my own.
I’m not sure there is anything fair about that situation, but what can I do about it now? There are two beautiful lives in this world that I helped create, and I refuse to regret that... ever.
I only hope that somewhere in there are karma points that will help me receive the same blessings.
Karma points mixed in with a little blood, sweat, and tears.
Because let’s not kid ourselves; I will be bleeding (I may be good at sticking myself, but I am not good enough to avoid a few messes), sweating (gotta love hormone induced night sweats!), and crying (again with the hormones – mixed in with my intense desire for this to work.)
Two weeks and counting ladies and gentleman.
I hope you’re all prepared for this wild ride.
ADSPACE
