Injection Injection, can't get infection

After months of waiting, one hysteroscopy and hundreds of prods of my lady area it was finally our turn. We had kind of given up, having being told IVF would probably start in 2020. However, upon recovering from my operation I called the clinic and they scheduled another embryo trial transfer straight away.

It was successful.

That meant, we would be starting our first cycle of IVF October 2019! The same week as national fertility week. This had to be some sort of crazy sign from the universe.

IVF:

We had our meeting again with our Dr and the nurses, they talked through all the procedure again then told me to call them as soon as my period starts. We went out for food after, it didn't seem real. We had so many set backs I was afraid to allow myself to get excited. So I just felt gut wrenchingly sick, I stared at my food and was unable to eat. I felt like someone was going to call us and take it all away from us again. 

After a few days had passed and I was convinced it was the real deal, we went for a celebratory roast dinner. Which I polished off with glee and gusto, I finally felt confident it would indeed be our turn. It's sad how infertility robs you of the basic joys in life, but I was determined to celebrate any win.

Then the weeks went on, I hurried to the toilet to check my pants at any sign. Having PCOS means never actually knowing exactly when your period would make an appearance. I had told everyone at work, and would update my best friend at work of any symptoms. She was now a teacher, so I'd find moments to run into her classroom with an update then run away again.
 I was three days late, my boobs hurt and I felt a bit sick. Could it be? Could I be one of the annoying stories you hear about when the couple relax because they know IVF is on it's way and fall pregnant naturally?
NO.
I wasn't, but it was fine because this period brought joyous hope. I ran to my head of year, whispered my news during phonics, her face lit up and she told me to go call, I then ran off to call the hospital. It ALWAYS went to voicemail which I found incredibly annoying. Why! Then I called my husband and the doctor. We had quite a lot going around in the school and I needed some advice.

After stressing frantically, I found out it was fine for us to go ahead with IVF.

Injection, Injection:

We went in on the Friday, a lovely nurse showed us how to mix the menopur and how to inject it. My husband videoed the whole thing, so we could watch it back 500 times later.

" How good are you at drinking water?" She asked, I embarrassingly told her that working in a school I'd have a coffee that I had made that morning, and it still wouldn't be fully drunk by the end of the day. I'd have to microwave it multiple times and even then I'd steal a sip, only drinking semi properly at lunch times in between cutting things out. She said "Well you'll have to start looking after yourself now, you can't go an hour without drinking water." 
She seemed a bit concerned with the school thing and asked if there was anything going around, there was. It was a particularly germy time. It was advised I get signed off for the whole of my treatment.

Home:

There's a special cocktail of feelings that appear when you're sent home with a mini science lab of medicines to make your baby. We placed our menopur proudly in the fridge with our trigger shot, and our progesterone pessaries in the medicine cupboard. We hugged and smiled, this was it. no one was taking this away from us now. This was our time.

There is also this wave of realism that dips in between the joy, it's real now. We couldn't make a baby the normal way. We really have to do this now. The pressure of the injections, the timing, the things you literally have to jab into your body.  The impending scans, operations, bloods and complete change to your life for this time. It brings with it an enormous pressure, and worry.

The first injection (Menopur):

We started off thinking we would do our injections at 6.30pm, however we changed it to 7pm
as 7 is our lucky number. I asked Sam to put on Jason Stephenson, a meditation I listen to when I go to sleep. I tried to zone out. Standing in our kitchen, I prepared the area and drew up my drugs. The two minutes I waited felt like forever, I then pinched a part of my belly and stupidly slowly put it in. The nurse had said to use a darting motion, then slowly release the meds into myself. I couldn't do that! It stung going in, but it was only for a few seconds. I released the pinch, then took out the needle. Apparently this helps with bruising and helps the meds go in. Sam then got the plaster and popped it on. 

It was fine, and it did get easier as the days went on. I tried to go out with my friends one night, and even though it was fun I should have probably stayed in. I felt like a miserable cow and wanted to just curl up in bed. My friends were amazing and really understanding. I couldn't do this without my friends. 
If this is you, clear your schedule and allow yourself to do what you feel.

Below is a video of the first ever shot we did!








The first injection (Fyre Festival- or Fyremadel):

Feeling like champs, we went to our scans and saw the eggs growing well. I could tell the left ovary had more, as I had a lopsided bump. They told us it was time to start the Fyremadel. She showed us the glass syringe and slightly thicker needle. I already hated it, it was hate at first site you could say. This was to stop ovulation from happening when we didn't want it to. We could do the shot straight after or before the menopur, it didn't matter. All these timings and different meds makes your head spin!

I have to admit, this shot did sting a bit after. It can feel a bit burny and annoying for a little while, I just lay for 10 minutes after and massaged it.

Trigger shot & Hyper Ovarian Syndrome:

I woke up one morning and felt even shitter than I had previously, I knew something was  up. It had been uncomfortable all this time but never this uncomfortable. It hurt to walk, I was fed up of my fake pregnancy bump and mood swings. Even the nurse noticed my sudden shift, I was normally smiley at our scans and full of optimistic energy. "You just want these eggs out now don't you!" She joked, I nodded.
 Then she did the scan, and my eggs had doubled over night. They were a bit concerned that due to my PCOS I was going into hyper ovarian. So they advised I took some blood tests, I did so then was sent home to rest. After what felt like a lifetime we got the call to say we were on the low side of Hyper ovarian Syndrome. We could do all our final shots and trigger shots at the allocated time they gave us. 

We did our final menopur and fyremadel at 6.30pm on the advice of the hospital. Then we geared ourselves up, and did our final shot. The trigger shot was done at 7:45pm, it was just like the fyremadel. Once it was over, we held each other and sobbed. We did it, we did the whole thing.


Honestly doing the shots wasn't fun, I still jolt at 6.55pm every day but I'm sure that'll stop. I once woke up in a blind panic that we hadn't done our shots, but we didn't need to anymore! It was also a weirdly nice time, we were being pro active and doing something about our infertility. Doing my shots finally gave me control over a situation I had no control over. If you are starting your shots, my advice is to be selfish. Clear your schedule and look out for yourself.

Love,
Blue moon girl x

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