No more shots for me! Had the last 2 last night! Today there is nothing to swallow, inject, or otherwise put in my body. I think I will use the extra time tonight to bake brownies for the staff at IRH to say thank you for all the great care we've been receiving. They really go above and beyond and I am thankful that God orchestrated that they would be our doctors. Yesterday, quite frankly, was a bad, bad hormone day. Today I feel much lighter and I even have a surge of energy. Today is all about enjoying my sweet toddler son and preparing our home for tomorrow. I'm going down the list the nurses gave me, with a few additions of my own. Shots, check. Babysitter lined up, check. Chick films ready to be watched as I lie on the couch tomorrow, check. A couple of new, fun toys for Michael to play with tomorrow, check. Unmentionable doctor's order, check (seriously, there are things that doctor's really shouldn't be able to tell us to do at specific times that I'm not going to even discuss), Happy Pill (aka Valium) in purse to take on the way to the doctor's office, check. Cat, check... wait, no, scratch that.
We are to be there at 6:45 a.m., yes I said a.m. I get no breakfast, not even water, and definitely no coffee *sigh*. Our babysitter will be here at 5:45 a.m. I love her. My big dilemma is whether to get Michael up that early or to let him sleep and wake up to the sitter.... hummm.... I'll probably get him up, I've gotta see that beautiful smile before I go. I don't want to sound morbid, because it's going to be just fine, but if God forbid something happens to me, my biggest fear is that Michael may someday wonder if his mommy loved him. I made Jason promise me that no matter what, he'd tell him everyday if for any reason I can't. I will be fine; I know that. But, it's a surgery, so, I just had to make sure that was taken care of.
On the way down to IRH (it's a 45 minute drive with traffic) I get a Valium at 6:15. I was talking with a dear friend today that has been through this whole thing and I was happy to find out that she, too, really looked forward to the Happy Pill. I was feeling a little guilty about that. It really does nothing but relax you; oh, but I need to relax. I remember my first IVF, I just became totally bubbly and happy. I remember Dr. A chuckling at me and saying, yep, she's good. When we get there, I will change into my lovely hospital gown and Jason will tuck me in bed. Then comes the IV. I am seriously concerned about the IV. I'm a difficult stick and they had trouble just drawing blood at my last appointment. I'm praying that I get a really good nurse (I told them a need a really good vampire). After they get the IV going, they wheel you into the ER suite. It's a very sterile, empty feeling room similar to a surgery suite. Our clinic has clouds painted on the ceiling so you can pretend you're somewhere else. And there are the loud fans you usually have in a surgery suite. They also play music but after a little while I can't hear it anymore. They use what they call moderate sedation. It is a very deep state of relaxation and again, I'm ashamed to say, I'm looking forward to my little mini-vacation from reality. You are kind of awake but time has no meaning, and you don't feel a whole lot. I've heard some women remember pain, but I haven't ever remembered that. I remember last IVF, I tried to pick up my head to say hi to Dr. A when he came in and I felt like my head weighed a million pounds.
Then they do the retrieval. I don't know how long it takes; it never seems long. Jason doesn't get to come with me, but he'll have his own stuff to take care of. Afterward, Jason will come find me in recovery, and I'll chill out there for an hour or so. Dr. A usually comes by to tell us what he got, and the lab begins their work. More on that later. Then, we go home and I spend the day as a couch potato and begin an insane regimen of medications (thankfully, none are injectables). Oh, and I forgot to mention breakfast from Cracker Barrel. Jason always gets take-out for me on the way home... pecan pancakes :P
These are what follicles look like; my doctor will be suctioning the eggs out of mine tomorrow.
This is a picture of the room where my procedure will be. That's my doctor and a few of the nurses (the one in the foreground is my favorite nurse, but she's not working tomorrow, bummer). This is an older photo; most of the equipment in the room is more modern looking than in this photo, but that's generally what I'll be looking like tomorrow.