It's refreshing to see such a lighthearted spoof on what it's like to have infertility problems, but I have to admit that I haven't been laughing much about it all these days. In fact, at acupuncture yesterday a needle placed on one of my "heart points" caused me to spontaneously sob for five minutes. Looks like the clouds have been building in there, despite the all the silver linings for which I am so grateful.
This pain that I try to hide and master, but cannot, is what I have to remember when I get cold feet about starting the IVF medications because I am convinced I will have an allergic reaction to them: I cannot spend the rest of my life obsessing over this dream and failing time and time and time again (25 times in a row, actually, thus far). Since I am physically and emotionally and mentally and spiritually unable to accept the notion that I cannot carry a pregnancy, I have to make whatever sacrifices it takes to make it come true--and if it doesn't, I will at least know that we gave it our all (on every level).
So Sunday, I sacrificed our sleep-in morning to schlep over to Beverly Hills to let the vampires suck my blood (and check my progesterone levels). Once I got the go-ahead, I sacrificed my usual summer-time calm by anxiously giving myself my first (nightly) shot of Lupron, a drug that will "prevent the usual hormone exchange that causes [eggs to mature] and ovulation by suppressing the pituitary stimulation to the ovaries." Sounds like a good chemistry experiment, no? I had to watch the how-to-stick-yourself video three times before I shot up, shakey-handed and nauseated nonetheless. But hey! That wasn't so bad. Good thing, because there's a lot more coming in the injection department.
Now, I just need to order the seven other medications I'll need to take to get a bun in the oven. Whatever happened to the birds and the bees?