We’re getting close, my friends! I went in this morning for ultrasound and bloodwork, and I have at least 9 follicles ranging from 10 to 16 mm. According to Dr. Petrel, I could be triggering tomorrow or Wednesday.
Which would be welcome because I’m officially getting crabby about all this. I’m tired of the headaches. I’m tired of the sleepiness. I’m feeling swollen and tender, which seems weird to me when you think about how damn tiny these are. How is it that possible?! And yet, I feel like I’ve got a litter setting up camp in there. Ouch.
I’m also getting reeeeaallly tired of the injections. After a week, I’m starting to bruise. I thought they’d get easier over time, but in truth I only find myself getting more anxious every night.I know which ones hurt and which ones don’t. I’ve found that putting on mindless TV helps distract me from the chemistry project that has become my living room. So while Mr. O mixes me a cocktail of infertility drugs, I watch Coupling, a British sitcom from the early 2000’s. I have no idea why- it was what was most readily available on Netflix when I first tested my diversionary tactic theory.
The intro song for Coupling is “Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps” which I’ve long had a personal affinity for. It was the song my grandfather used to serenade my grandmother with when they were courting. And now decades later, I feel like I’m using this same song to court my own ovaries.
If you can’t make your mind up
We’ll never get started
And I don’t wanna wind up
Being parted, broken-hearted
So let’s get this show on the road, lady bits!