Dexamethasone (.75mg, oral pill): Stepped on the scale right before bed tonight, after consuming massive quantities of snacks, and found that I've suddenly become heavier despite the fact that I've upped my workouts to match the rise in my caloric intake.
So, for the sake of my own sanity, no more scale.
It's for the best, really.
Lupron (5units, subQ injection): Not the most perfect of injections this morning, but it was bound to happen eventually. After an unsuccessful attempt at stabbing myself on the right side failed miserably, I simply moved on to the left side, refusing to become frustrated and brought low by such an unimportant matter.
That seems to be the theme of this cycle so far.
In the past I've panicked over weight gain, obsessed about timing, and become frustrated to tears over the strangest, most unimportant details of an IVF cycle. Unable to control even the smallest portion of my body on so many different levels, my type A personality became frantic on a daily basis over issues that were out of my control.
And when my nurse sent my official packet in the mail just a few short weeks ago letting me know that our cycle would be pushed down one week due to some annual protocol reviews and a visit from Dr. Sher himself, I didn't freak out. I didn't panic over the schedule change, fret about the dates I'd be gone from work or worry about how I'd rearrange my white lies to cover the reasons for my absence from town during this final, secret cycle; opting instead to be thankful for one more week of vitamins, yoga, and preparation.
That's the moment I knew I was capable of remaining calm where I normally would pee my pants with anticipation and drama over something as slight as a schedule change.
And I was rewarded when-after the said annual protocol review-my nurse called to let me know that they had specifically talked about my husband and I in their meeting, and decided to make a few small changes to my dosages just to ensure we were received the best possible chance at developing the most healthy, mature eggs for this final cycle.
I was so very grateful; because without that delayed scheduling, that protocol change never would have taken place.
So when I woke up this morning in pain and instead of my expected period found a large, fleshy mass on the toilet paper, the controller in me still memorized the measurements of the said object but didn't run frantically for my cell phone to call my mother and ask what in the world just came out of my girl parts. Instead, I wrote a detailed email to my nurse and asked her if this was normal-a clot perhaps-and waited patiently for her to email me back.
And after a few hours had passed and still no email had returned about my mysterious and completely disgusting dilemma, I began to think about my missing E2 results as well. I considered calling up the clinic and asking someone-anyone-why I didn't have my Estrogen level yet, and was even a few moments away from looking up the number to LapCorp and investigating the matter on my own; especially since it's Friday and I didn't know if I could make it through the weekend without knowing the answer.
But before I could even reach the tool bar for Google, I decided to let it go.
This was my chance to exercises my faith, and to show God that I am indeed trying my best to give up taking control of matters on my own and that I am capable of waiting patiently for His timing, especially on matters this minuscule. You know, drop it like it's hot, learn to pick my battles. I knew the nurse had received my emails, I knew my E2 levels would be fine just as they always have been, and this was my chance to prove I'm capable of being something other than an obsessive compulsive control freak.
And just as I made up my mind to sit this one out, relinquishing all control out of my own hands and back into God's, the little mail box in the upper left corner of my screen popped out a tiny yellow envelope and shot up it's little red flag.
My heart immediately became full; I knew exactly who it was from.
My nurse's perfectly timed returned email let me know that while it's possible I could have passed a fibroid, most likely it was just my shed lining as my period begins. She offered to bring me down for an ultra sound just to make sure, but I opted instead to just check things out when I go in for my regularly scheduled follicular monitoring ultra sound in a little more than a week instead; because even the thought of finding something wrong growing in my uterus after a week of stims wasn't enough to phase me and my new found confidence if the nurse wasn't terribly concerned with it either.
And at the end of the comforting email, she included the answer to the other question I had struggled to patiently wait for, confirming that my E2 level was nice and low at 23, the best it's ever been.
I know these examples are seemingly insignificant, and it's not really some huge feat that I was able to practice a bit of patience in the light of such small things going wrong. But in my eyes, today was a fabulous example of how quickly God swoops in to care for us when we truly surrender to Him. I literally received an email with the answers I had been seeking just moments after calming my heart and taking my burdens to the creator of the universe in a simple, short prayer.
And I know that wasn't just a coincidence, either.
The issues will become more difficult to deal with as this cycle continues. Soon I'll be watching a fuzzy black screen and counting follicles, waiting for them to grow, wondering if they are mature enough and questioning the doctors ability to extract my precious follicles at just the right time to ensure I get the slew of mature eggs we've been praying for. And then I'll be waiting for the phone call letting us know how many of our precious eggs were fertilized, followed by how many are still growing and wondering if we'll have any strong enough to transfer five days later.
And of course there's the week after where I'll spend every second of every day over analyzing my symptoms, wondering if God chose to allow the life inside of me to implant and develop a beautiful strong heartbeat or two, or if He decided to bring them to live with Him in Heaven instead.
Yes, the waiting, practicing patience, and giving it up to God will all become close to unbearable as these next few weeks fly by, that's pretty much guaranteed. But I plan to hold on to today's events and do my best to remember that no matter how much I worry about a situation, I have no control over the outcome, and if I'm trusting in Him like I know I should, it will always make more sense to just let God work His miracles.
And learn to let go.
I know that You are in control. You showed me today in a simple, quiet way that You are listening to my prayers and that You truly are the rewarder of them that diligently seek You. Thank You for always blessing me despite my constant lack of faith, and continue to draw me closer to You as this cycle progresses.
Continue to remind me that I have nothing to worry about, I can always rest assured that You will care for me. Teach me to surrender to Your will, constantly giving my burdens to You and trusting that You will supply my every need because I am even more precious to you than the lilies,