We went in for a follicle scan ultrasound on cycle day 12. The nurse found my left ovary first, which is the elusive hard to find one, and saw one big fat follicle, sized 20. That was it. Just the one. But it was healthy! She moved on to my uterus and saw that the lining was really good. Victory again!
Moving onto the right ovary she didn’t find much. There were a few tiny follicles in there but nothing worth noting, and nothing that would likely produce a mature egg. I wasn’t thrilled, but it was better than nothing. Before we left and while scheduling our IUI, the nurse gave us genetic testing kits. We decided to go ahead and get genetic testing done, which is a good idea given our age but also given the fact that IVF is a distinct possibility.
We left the clinic and went about our busy days. I got home and started in on my evening activities totally forgetting the fact that I needed to take the trigger shot at 10p! Opppps. I was picking up the house when I was struck with panic. I called out to Edder to remind him of the shot and he was all “yeah I remember, I’ve got it.” I’m glad one of us had it together. Sheesh.
This is where things got good. My track record with trigger shots isn’t great. And this one put me over the top! Our last trigger shot was done in haste, cleaning my arm with Vodka because that was the most sterile thing we had in the house at the time. Yeah.
THIS TIME. Oh my. So. I have my shot mailed to me from New York. It comes in a gigantic box. Big box, little shot, mostly ice pack packaging. The day it arrived I opened it up and pulled out a huge zipper bag with a hard plastic container, an alcohol swab (victory, they must have known we used vodka last time), some gauze and the instructions.
Assuming this was everything I needed I took out the hard plastic container and threw it in the fridge. I set the box everything had shipped in on top of our recycling bins. Still inside the box was a shiny, silver, puffy, packaging thing that I assumed was just ice. Side note: My shots arrive about a week prior to an IUI.
You can imagine when I went to get my shot out of the fridge, to warm it up before shooting into my arm fat, and realized the hard plastic container was empty, I had a few moments of slight Panic. READ: near hysteria. I took it to the Edder and he was all. “um… you realize this is just the disposal container, right?” My response? “WELL I DO NOW!”
Because no. Nope. NEERRRRRR. I didn’t realize that the hard plastic box wasn’t the shot, just the disposal container. I left the shot in the box apparently. In the big shiny, puffy, cold, silver lining interior package. That clearly had a zipper on top for opening. Used to get to the actual shot.
I win. Just in general. At everything.
That’s right. My shot had been sitting in a box in my mudroom on top of recycling bins for a week (don’t judge me for not taking out the recycling. or do… i don’t really care), unrefrigerated…. yeaaahhhhhhh. In that moment of panic I called my sister (who has done this more times than i can count and is a PA) who was on vacation in Hawaii. Being the amazing sister she is, she took my call and told me it was okay. She instructed me to take the shot and to call my clinic in the morning.
I was still skeptical that my mistake would allow the shot to work. Also, I may have had the slight worry in the back of my mind I would die overnight in my sleep thanks to a tainted shot.
Even still. I let Edder give me the shot all while telling him to check and make sure I was alive at 3a. I am fairly certain there was eye rolling on his end. We used the alcohol swab provided and Edder stabbed the shot in. I think he finds a sick gratification in getting to stab me with a needle. I swear he’s behind me smiling as he jabs it in with zero warning. I will likely never know.
Regardless. Hound released. Just the one hound. My sassy 20mm hound. Let’s hope it’s a determined one.
To reassure you all, I didn’t die from the shot. In fact, the nurses assured me the shot was fine, it is okay unrefrigerated for up to 45 days. We were in the clear. Lesson no. 82 regarding IUI, learned. Boom.