Birthday Shots

Tuesday, 1-12-10 (Day 14)

Dexamethasone (.75mg, oral pill):No brisk walking and still no attempt at yoga today; it's my birthday and I'd rather eat amazing food, go shopping, and see a movie.

Maybe have a Starbucks.

It's OK though, because one of my amazing blogger friends suggested the brilliant idea of enjoying a grande hot chocolate with a pump of carmel or gingerbread instead of a frappachino. You know, just enough to satisfy the sweet tooth, but without the guilt of poisonous caffeine.

The result of this new endeavor was simply amazing. I'm pretty sure that in just one night, I've conquered my frappachino cravings for good. It's really a remarkable feet too, because not only is a hot chocolate just as satisfying as a frappachino, but it's also less expensive, so my Starbucks gift card will last longer and my eggs will have a shot at developing free of mutilation by caffeine.

I know I just turned twenty-seven, but I feel smarter already.

Lupron (5units, subQ injection): Every morning that I wake up and start my day off with a little blue steroid pill and a tiny bee sting injection, I'm reminded that I'm not normal. But instead of feeling sad, I feel blessed. How amazing is it that I get to experience a process this medically intricate? That I get to watch and see what my body is capable of doing both inside and out? That I can admire a process that usually happens inside a women's body under a microscope, and take home pictures of cells dividing, growing and thriving?

Every injection, every bruise, every twinge of pain; it's all so amazing to me. And when I wake up in the morning and see that shot and pill sitting on my nightstand, I feel so blessed to be a part of this process, a part of a plan that God has for my life that's only just beginning. And when I see the bruise on my stomach that just won't go away, I can't help but admire it despite it's vulgarity.

Because my mom used to always tell me, as I sat backwards gripping the porcelain lid of the toilet while she ripped the brush through my tangled hair, that it's painful to be beautiful. This wisdom was passed on to her from my grandmother, and I plan on passing this truth down-Lord willing-to my own daughter someday.

And pregnancy is a beautiful thing. A painful thing to achieve in my experience so far, but a beautiful thing nonetheless, and I want it.

So I will endure the pain.

Follistim (150 units, subQ injection): I don't consume alcoholic beverages-mostly for a mixture of religious and personal reasons, coupled with the fact that I'm clumsy and obnoxious enough on my own without being intoxicated, thank you-but I know that on birthdays, it's normal for even the non-drinkers to let loose and consume a few shots. So in the spirit of all things festive for my twenty-seventh birthday, I gave in and went straight for the hard stuff.

Follistim.

That's right, there's nothing like kicking off your birthday by shooting up, turning on your ovary crockpot to simmer and slow cook some little meatballs.

This may just be the best birthday ever.

Wednesday, 1-13-10 (Day 15)

Dexamethasone (.75mg, oral pill): The whole hot chocolate switch over operation was brilliant, but I'm not sure how productive it will be if I continue to enjoy one every singe day. It seems as though my obsessive compulsive disorder isn't my only flaw, I've also been blessed with an addictive behavior of sorts.

They're no longer in danger of caffeine mutilation, but my poor little meatballs are trying to slow cook and I'm probably drowning them in high fructose corn syrup as we speak.

Lupron (5units, subQ injection): No new bruises, dull needles, or shooting troubles, but last weeks monster is still imprinted on my flesh, changing color and shape every day.

It's fascinating, really.

Follistim (150units, subQ injection): For my first two cycles I was given a low dose of 300units of Follistim for the first two days, then dropped to 225units for the remainder of stims. I was never really affected by the drug; I never felt uncomfortable, bloated, or unable to resume my light and sporadic exercise sessions. I was almost oblivious to the two dozen little eggs that were growing inside of me, and I'm sure this time will be no different.

And now that we've started off by cutting that already low dose in half, I'm pretty much out of excuses when it comes to signs, symptoms, and sympathy for administering this stuff. I'm just praying it does it's job and my girlie parts use this stimulation drug to plump up some slow cooked eggs for us to view during next week's appointment.

Luveris (1/2ml, subQ injection): Also new to the protocol this cycle is the addition of Luveris a day earlier than normal. Since Luveris serves the purpose of improving the quality of the eggs being produced, I'm more than happy to comply, even if it means receiving an extra shot that has given me so much trouble in the past.

The first cycle of Luveris left me in tears on a hotel floor, followed a trip to the hospital and then a late night house call to my sleep deprived doctor. The second cycle had me practically hyperventilating, scared from the previous cycles mistakes and frustrated by the lack of precision that comes with drawing out such a small amount from such a tiny little vial with such a large needle.

This cycle, however, I was determined to conquer my fear of Luveris and become more courageous in the face of the one drug I've never been capable of defeating. I laid out my directions, set out the appropriate needles, and attacked the tiny vials with a fierceness I never knew I had; a determination that can only result from two previous cycles of trial and error.

And even though the directional email my nurse wrote assured me that it's perfectly normal to have less than the recommended 1/2 ml left in the syringe for the next days injection, I somehow managed to do it, and do it right. I drew, I shot, I conquered; and I am no longer afraid of Luveris.

Gratitude, hot chocolate and a surprisingly successful Luveris injection.

This just keeps getting better and better.

"I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear."

-Nelson Mandela