I rock + a little riot girrl action

I have not felt this good about myself since I learned to tie my shoes. I managed, for the first time ever, to give myself my own injection. I had no choice (aka I was waiting on the school nurse and she was running late) but I did do it. Therefore, I am awesome today.

On that note, I was a huge fan of riot grrl bands in high school. A more famous examples was Hole, but less famous (and far better) examples include bands like Bikini Kill, Bratmobile, L7, and my favorite, Sleater Kinney. All that music made me feel powerful when I was a teenager and it still does to this day. Here is a rockin' example that will leave you drumming on your desk. Here is Sleater-Kinney's "Little Babies." Enjoy!

Back to the Grind

Any teachers out there?

If so, you know how it goes when you return to school after winter break. Any hopes I had of slowly readjusting were dashed within a few minutes of the kids walking in the room! My teaching partner and I quickly got overwhelmed as we looked at our plan books and realized that we needed to quickly plan in a ton of assessments for upcoming progress reports and get several major curriculum projects kicked off. To those not in the classroom, this may sound like minor issues. But, when the tasks involve 26 children, it is daunting.

You know those progress reports I mentioned? I teach in a private school, so those progress reports involve very long narratives, bulleted strengths and goals in every subject, and checklists of skills. Altogether, I write between 12,000-15,000 words when all is said and done. The parents are paying major bucks for tuition, so they expect lengthy and detailed information on their kids. Although I feel like writing the reports is a major strength of mine, it takes at least five days of writing, spending 5-6 hours at a time at my laptop, on top of the prep time to review my notes and samples of their work. Not to mention correcting new work as it comes in.

All of this, on top of actually teaching my classes, tutoring, and doing normal administrative duties.

Needless to say, even in my seventh year of teaching, I get really stressed in January.

I suggested to my dad that he buy me a massage, to alleviate said stress. He agreed! I go in at noon for a 90 minute massage.

I. Can't. Wait.

Needless to say, my blog might be neglected over the next 10 days or so.
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So, in IVF #1 news - here is the latest:
• His Royal Fabulousness (aka KG, because I am lazy) and I met with my RE's nurse for a lesson in all my meds. It was really helpful to watch her mix meds and such in front of us. She commented on what a relaxed, non-squeamish guy he is, and I had to agree. I don't know what I would do without him giving me these shots.

• I start Lupron tomorrow morning. On days I am home, KG will do the shots. On school days, my school nurse will do them. She has three sons from IVF herself! I stay on Lupron through the last several days of BCP (last pill on Jan. 12th) and then get a period while on Lupron.

• On Jan. 17th, I have a baseline ultrasound and bloodwork scheduled, then I start Gonal-F and Menopur the next day. I wish I had asked why I can't do an ultrasound now, to make sure the cysts are gone, before I start Lupron. Anyone know the answer to why they have me start Lupron first?


• I do stims and Lupron until my hcg trigger (aka BIG ASS NEEDLE #1).

• Egg retrieval is the day after, with embryo transfer either 3 or 5 days later, depending on how the little suckers fertilize. Can't wait for transfer. Transfer = valium.

• Fun progesterone in oil (PIO) injections start after transfer, along with estrogen patches, antibiotics, steroids, and other fun stuff.

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KG said the sweetest thing the afternoon of our meds lesson. In the most earnest way, he thanked me for being willing to go through all of this to make our baby. I'm telling you, that boy melts my heart sometimes. You should have heard the sweetness in his voice.

Now, if that sweetness could include him giving up alcohol with me this cycle, THAT would be something.

So, although I am not excited, I am feeling like it is time to get this show on the road. I'm as ready as I will ever be.

Needles

I am no fan of needles. Never have been. This began when I was 8 and had my tonsils out. I was scared to begin with, and the sadomasochistic nurse put the IV in my hand without numbing it first.

In adulthood, although I always get blood work when I need it, I always have intense fear. I have to look away, breathe deeply, and avoid the humiliation of passing out. Sweating and crying are common.  To make matters worse I have had several inept nurses try to draw blood and leave me with bruises. They tend to blame me for this problem. Occasionally, I have a gifted phlebotomist or other medical professional who has no trouble at all.

Then, when I went for my first D&C after the miscarriage, I had a horrific IV experience. The nurse who was assigned to me tried to get the IV placed TWICE without success. Each attempt included an injection of numbing agent first. That means 4 needles later, and the IV was not placed. Finally, another nurse is able to place the IV. That means it took a total of 6 pokes. 6. 

So, needless to say, I have needle fear. This wasn't helped by the fact that my last blood draw at the RE's office did not go smoothly.

But, after months of setbacks, we finally got the go ahead to start injectable medications, leading to an IUI. This is good news. There is a much higher chance of the treatment being successful than anything we have tried yet. But, then there is the needle.

The first night, after watching the YouTube videos reminding us about how to give the shots, I sat with the syringe in my hand shaking. I tried over and over again to give myself the shot. The inner dialogue went something like this:
"Real women don't need a man to give them the shots."
"I should be able to do this! This will help get us a baby!"
"That needle is huge." (It isn't.)
"How the hell do diabetics do this?"
"Would my stomach or my leg hurt less?"
Etc. Etc. Etc.

Deciding I couldn't do it myself, I handed the needle over to Kev. We started a count to 3 several times. I couldn't seem to get to 3. After 2 venue changes, and much whining, he said, "This is going to happen one way or another tonight." So, after 30 minutes, while hiding my face, we counted "1.....2......3!"

Then....nothing. It didn't hurt. I barely felt it. But what I did feel is like I am an idiot.

But, somehow, the anxiety ramped up even more the next day. In my head, I knew it wouldn't hurt. But, that irrational fear just took over my brain. I started to really wonder if I could ever do IVF if I need to. From many infertile friends, I know THOSE shots are horrific. However, that night, although I shake and fuss, I allow Kev to get the shot done in half the time. Progress.

The third night, I make a major breakthrough. After prepping the shot, I looked at hubs and said, "I'm counting to 3. Just do it."

2 minutes. Done.The ensuing nights are similar.

I might still be lame for not doing it myself, but I'll take bravery in little bits and pieces.