“…you know that’s why they have so many babies. The drug addicts. It’s because they are so relaxed all of the time.”
Wise words from a professional I’d been paying for the better part of a year to help us fall pregnant. And she waits until NOW before suggesting I get on the gear? I’m not 100% certain on the street value of a hit of heroin – but I’m gonna go out on a limb and suggest it has to be cheaper than my weekly hit of acupuncture.
I go to suggest she may’ve made a gross generalisation regarding drug addicted mothers, but I know better to argue with a woman who has me pinned to a table – literally.
I never imagined falling pregnant would involve so many sharps containers.
The needles become unavoidable. Not even the berry industry can avoid them. (TOPICAL – will obviously omit once berries are safe again. IF EVER).
Now, I know I’m no hero for having to engage in “self injecting”. A whole range of bad ass legends are required to do it for varying medical conditions. I even went to school with a girl who’s surgeon father taught her how to administer drugs into her face after she was dealt the crushing diagnosis of having “thin lips”. It really took the parenting parable of “if they’re going to do it, it might as well be under my roof” to the next level.
A few months back I watched, in equal parts awe and concern, my toughest friend jab herself in the guts with blood thinner so she wouldn’t get DVT from her moon boot on a long haul flight.
We’d gone round for dinner. It made things weird for a bit.
(This next bit gets a little bit theatre in ed. But don’t you worry, I’ll keep it edu-taining.)
In 25 words or less, to commence an IVF cycle you need to make like a battery hen and harvest eggs. Same thing goes for my forward thinking comrades who elect to have their eggs frozen. It involves lots of needles and that ghastly blue freezer bag with the enormous Easter Eggs emblazoned on it.
My biggest regret thus far is returning the bag to be reused. It would’ve killed at a grade 4 easter bonnet parade. Another mother’s eyes would’ve narrowed in on me from across the quadrangle and she’d deliver a gentle, knowing nod as our offspring gorged themselves on chocolate. Bless’d be the fruit. (but seriously, not even Banana’s are safe).
IVF drugs don’t look like you’re average fear inducing syringe that you winced at in primary school. The whole unit is about the size of a sharpie. They even have a similar little cap that has a clip on it. Why? Well, so you can clip it onto your shirt pocket silly. Drug manufacturers ey? Making the inconvenient, convenient…ish.
The first whack of “stims” are the drugs designed to get your ovum excited. They’re the feeling of seeing a Hemsworth holding a child created in synthetic form. After roughly a week, your ovaries should be ‘choc-a-block’ so to avoid you blowing your load before the ‘harvest’ – which in itself sounds so deliciously Puritan – you take an antagonist med.
HOLD UP! A Hemsworth and now a villain! It’s a medical Marvel© movie.
I liken the cocktail of meds to an espresso martini.
At first the antagonist stings so much I almost pass out, which is VERY OFF BRAND, so I text a friend to ask how to take it. This one is way more syringe-y. Lucky for me, she’s got plenty of sage advice and I’ve had unadulterated access to it every step of the way. Turns out it is a Marvel© movie, I’m surrounded by superheroes.
The two weeks fly by. Nek minute I’m waiting by the phone to be told when to take the trigger injection – which is the last one. I’m oddly disappointed by this, as if I think I have a future in injectable drugs. I’m not suggesting that GONAL-F is a gateway drug…I’m just saying, short of the slight hiccup with my parasympathetic nervous system, it wasn’t so bad.
The call will come between 3pm and 6pm. You get a window. You can take phones out of the house nowadays. But it still feels like I’ll be waiting at home for an Optus employee to connect the internet.
I get the call. I get my husband’s appointment time with the red vinyl couch. I get told when EXACTLY to take the trigger, which I assume is the medical equivalent of a “beginners call” and we get our date for surgery.
Surgery sounds extreme. It’s a procedure. I’ll be under for 15mins. I’ve waited on hold to Optus for longer than that.
It would be in bad taste to post anything fruit based. https://www.jamieoliver.com/news-and-features/features/how-to-make-espresso-martini/
IVeFfort 