This all terrifies me because this is it – our last attempt. What if all of my eggs are bad? Or what if we only get like 7 the next time, too? That gives us very little chance. I know we only need one, but I’m not convinced that we’re on track to get one at this point.
The lupron this time around has had the interesting and not so pleasant side effect of rendering me unable to eat. I can eat, it just makes me massively illl and gives me intestinal issues to an extent that I won’t even get into. Suffice it to say, I would rather just not eat than deal with the indignity and pain of the intestinal issues. I’ve been able to eat applesauce and a few pretzels and I can drink water again now, so that’s progress. I was feeling a bit better so i tried chicken and mashed potatoes tonight – and now I am paying for it. Tomorrow I am back to applesauce.
I also haven’t been able to run outdoors since I started the lupron. I have to stay home and run the treadmill. In my current state, I cannot be more than 1 minute from access to a bathroom without risking a seriously humiliating incident. So, at least we have the treadmill. Even though I feel assy, I am going to try to run tonight. The doctor said once I start the hormones, I won’t be able to do any running for around 3 weeks. And I am very close to finishing the C25K program, so i am trying to finish before that. Once that’s done, I am going to start again at the beginning and try to increase my running speed and distance while going through the program again.
Anyway, turns out that IVF, while it seemed relatively straightforward, gets a lot more complicated when you add the preimplantation genetic diagnosis. There are a lot of variable they didn’t explain up front. It seems like you should get the education you need to make a decision BEFORE you write the very, very large check rather than afterwards. But, ok, we’ll make it work.
Oh, and there goes my stomach again…
There. I said it.
I have taken Lupron injections many cycles before and they’ve never had this effect on me. But the pharmacy sent me a different brand this time and maybe that’s the culprit. I don’t know what it is, but I do know that it made me shit my pants.
I was taking my son to preschool, which is a mere 2 minute drive from my house. I felt perfectly fine when we left. Happy, comfortable, not a twinge of discomfort. About half way there, it hit. I made the quickest U-Turn a human has ever made and in the minute or so that it took me to get home, I knew I wasn’t going to make it. There was definitively going to be an incident. So, here’s me – kid in the car, me tearing up in rage and humiliation as I shit my pants all the way into the house.
I left the kid in the car in the garage (It’s ok – he was safely strapped into his carseat, playing with toys, the car was off…he was safe). It took a few minutes for me to clean up enough to go back out and get him. I mean, he’s just potty trained himself – how the hell do I explain this to him? Oh, and if you knew my kid, you would know that he’s VERY precocious and I would have probably been given an earnest talking to about getting to the potty sooner. And then he probably would have gone to school and told his preschool teacher that Mommy had an accident in her pants this morning but it was ok because he explained to me that I needed to get to the potty sooner next time. I could just see that all playing out in my head…I could see the preschool teacher looking at me thinking, “Wow. You shit your pants…I would have never guessed you were a pants shitter.”
And so, I called someone else to come get him and take him to preschool so I could shower and get ready for work. Again.
In so many ways, fertility treatments really rob you of your dignity.