Written August 19:
I lied, I’m posting before I’m in LA or have even left for LA. Mostly because last night was the first night of shots and it was… wow. I’m fairly certain I will now have PTSD regarding shots the rest of my life. Per typical Robinson style, the first night of shots for IVF was a comedy of errors.
Thankfully, my sister who has been through this six times, was on call for texts, phone calls and FaceTime demonstrations for how to properly mix, measure and administer said FRUDUNKULOUS amount of meds.
We started in on the first night of meds by mixing everything up, dosing it and setting it out. I had on tap to do Menopur, GonalF and Omnitrope. I’d heard Menopur was pure evil and the most painful of all because it stings like a MOFO going in.
First the mixable meds, which were Menopur and Omnitrope. With Menopur you have to mix vials of powder with a solution, yourself. For my dosage it was three vials of powder to one vial of solution. For Omnitrope it was mixing one vial of powder with one vial of solution. I can’t believe the RE’s and nurses leave it to non-medical professionals to do this stuff. It’s nerve wracking knowing you have NO FREAKING CLUE what you are doing. No matter how many instructions you read, how many videos you watch, there is a ton riding on each and every one of those shots we mix and administer. No pressure!
With the mixable meds you use one syringe but two different needles. You use one needle to pull up the fluid/powder and a different needle for the injection itself. Thankfully GonalF is a rediject and all we had to do was dial in the dose and stab that sucker in. Boom. Easy. (plus i’d done gonal with my IUI before so i was ready for that one, doesn’t hurt a bit).
Once we finished all the frantic FaceTiming with my sister while mixing the meds to make sure we weren’t screwing anything up, we were ready to go. I stood in the kitchen at our counter, syringes lined up nice and neat. Edder grabbed the Menopur and knelt down so he could get a good stabbing angle at my unassuming belly. I have this thing where I can’t watch the needles going in. So before I turned my head to cover my eyes I double checked that Edder had grabbed the evililst of evil shots first (the menopur).
That’s when I noticed the size of the needle and not so calmly asked him if he was certain that was the correct needle. And he was all, “yeah! I promise you. It’s the right needle.” Queue back and forth 10 times of “are you sure?” “yes i’m sure” and I relented warily while staring down that mother of a huge needle with some massive side eye.
I said, okay “GO.” “WAIT NO, NOT YET.”
I’m not a frustrating infertile at all.
I took a few more deep breaths, remembered what it was all for and said “Okay, just do it. NOW!” I looked away covering my eyes and then SPLAT! In goes the most painful stab I’ve ever felt in my life. I had to wait it out (while yelling OOOWWWWW MOTHER *#&^$%#**^$# over and over again) while Ed pushed all the meds in, which takes a few seconds.
When he finally pulled the needle out, after what felt like an eternity, the bleeding began. I doubled over in crazy pain, it literally felt like the needle had stabbed into my ovary then spread stinging hot molten lava through my entire abdomen. I immediately started crying and repeating words that would make my mother wash my mouth out with five kinds of soap. Meltdown village ensued.
Through my sobbing I told Edder I needed a minute before moving on to the other meds. I walked to the bedroom, curled up in a ball on my bed sobbing and held my fresh new wound (it had stopped bleeding by then). Edder walked in with my other meds and I told him that I couldn’t do it after all. I wasn’t tough enough or strong enough and that I couldn’t do it. I thought I could but I couldn’t.
I laid there sobbing as he told me that I didn’t have to do anything I didn’t want to do. That it was okay and that everything would be okay. He promised no more shots I just had to say the words. But what got me was that as he was saying all of this he said “It may hurt and be hard, you may not want to do this, but I know you’re strong enough to do this. If anyone is strong enough, it’s you.”
The man knows what to say.
I laid there like a useless lump for another minute then rolled over on my back and said “let’s do this.” Needless to say after that first shot, the next two were a breeze. I laid there the rest of the night, Edder even turned off the lights and brought me the iPad to watch a show.
So this morning I double checked the needles myself. I texted my sister that I thought Edder used the wrong needle and that shots were awful and was all “how did you do this six times?” She asked what size he had used, I replied a 22 gauge, 1.5 inch. This was her text reply: “BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA serious?! No wonder it hurt and you bled.”
Sisterly love right there. The good news is I started laughing and had the pleasure of telling the Edder that I was right and he was wrong. The other good news is that it’s already funny. Just 12 hours later. And the even BETTER news is that I have a pretty spectacular bruise, it’s impressive, really!
What are you going to do other than laugh your way through this ridiculous process? And hey, at least that first shot of awfulness will likely make every other shot from here on out feel amazing, like a tickle from a kitten, comparatively. So there is that! Tonight’s shots? Kitten tickles!