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Funnily enough - and contrary to all the nightmarish stories I've heard about the crazy making IVF drugs - I feel awesome. And not even the "awesome in spite of the SHIT being injected and inhaled into my delicate system every day, sometimes TWICE" kind of awesome. I feel most awesome. Awesomer than usual, even- and I usually don't feel that great, thank you not related to motherhood fatigue issues. Thanks to them, I always feel like I'd like to sleep for a week, thank you very much, and would you mind lifting my arm for me? I'd like to scratch my nose but..I...just...can't....mooooovvvve...
Point being, I feel great right now and I have done since Monday. Or maybe even since Sunday. I'm also calm and patient and have been able to tolerate entire days' worth of retrieving small scale Thomas The Tank engines from the arch of my foot with little more than a "here you are, darling. I found the Gordon you were looking for". I'm still having trouble dealing with the emotional fallout from NEVER being able to either see my floor or take two consecutive steps without tripping over something, but at least the righteous amount of shit lying around isn't making me break down and cry.
I'm also wildly horny (I whispered that because that little factoid really is more than anyone needs to know), which is a side effect that I wouldn't have expected. Or maybe I'm just a total horndog, ridiculous amounts of crazy making drugs be damned? So it could be nature's way of saying "Whoa there, missy, we've got a MOTHERLODE of eggs going on in here. I know! Let's fertilise them ALL!", or it could be plain that my ovaries are party people.
Speaking of, the enormous ovaries I read about seem to be settling in too, but if I was paid a million bucks to describe what it feels like, I'd have to pass. It just feels....weird.
This blatant awareness of mah bits and all their glorious functions is in stark contrast to the previous weeks' drug enforced total lack of reproductive urges. Seriously, it was like being on Yasmin all over again. I was on that a few years ago, before I worked out that the pill is evil and that yasmin's main contraceptive effect lies not in preventing ovulation, but in making you hate the idea of sex SO much that you're NEVER going to have it EVER because, ew, ick, bleah, etc.
That being said, The Lawyer's hotness apparently trumps any and all libido killing drugs. I saw him twice last week (if by "saw" I mean "saw naked") and because we sometimes literally not figuratively catch up for coffee, I was all "ohpleasejustcoffee", which turned out to be a thought process that valiantly withstood his searing heat for approximately two minutes.
Which, while it sounds superfluous data, is actually a testament to the fact that you can live a normal life while on an IVF cycle. It's not, as I feared it would, going to totally fuck with your regular sense of being human.
This particular reproductive unit seems to be pretty laissez faire when it comes to monitoring all this weirdassed shit going on in there, and while most of the literature I read on the internet outlines at least one baseline scan, with regular blood tests throughout the cycle, I've had one blood test as an absolute baseline before commencing Synarel, and a second as a baseline before starting the fun part of the cycle. This has felt like such a cluster fuck already though, that nothing about this place either surprises or disappoints me anymore, and I'm just going along for the ride as they prescribe it, and hopefully I'm not either a) growing ovaries the size of Italy and with the potential to populate a new nation in there, or b) spending vast amounts of money and having ovaries the size of ovaries that do pretty much exactly what an ovary is expected to do. ie NOT expandify beyond all belief before spitting out way too many eggs to be considered normal.
Point being, I feel great right now and I have done since Monday. Or maybe even since Sunday. I'm also calm and patient and have been able to tolerate entire days' worth of retrieving small scale Thomas The Tank engines from the arch of my foot with little more than a "here you are, darling. I found the Gordon you were looking for". I'm still having trouble dealing with the emotional fallout from NEVER being able to either see my floor or take two consecutive steps without tripping over something, but at least the righteous amount of shit lying around isn't making me break down and cry.
I'm also wildly horny (I whispered that because that little factoid really is more than anyone needs to know), which is a side effect that I wouldn't have expected. Or maybe I'm just a total horndog, ridiculous amounts of crazy making drugs be damned? So it could be nature's way of saying "Whoa there, missy, we've got a MOTHERLODE of eggs going on in here. I know! Let's fertilise them ALL!", or it could be plain that my ovaries are party people.
Speaking of, the enormous ovaries I read about seem to be settling in too, but if I was paid a million bucks to describe what it feels like, I'd have to pass. It just feels....weird.
This blatant awareness of mah bits and all their glorious functions is in stark contrast to the previous weeks' drug enforced total lack of reproductive urges. Seriously, it was like being on Yasmin all over again. I was on that a few years ago, before I worked out that the pill is evil and that yasmin's main contraceptive effect lies not in preventing ovulation, but in making you hate the idea of sex SO much that you're NEVER going to have it EVER because, ew, ick, bleah, etc.
That being said, The Lawyer's hotness apparently trumps any and all libido killing drugs. I saw him twice last week (if by "saw" I mean "saw naked") and because we sometimes literally not figuratively catch up for coffee, I was all "ohpleasejustcoffee", which turned out to be a thought process that valiantly withstood his searing heat for approximately two minutes.
Which, while it sounds superfluous data, is actually a testament to the fact that you can live a normal life while on an IVF cycle. It's not, as I feared it would, going to totally fuck with your regular sense of being human.
This particular reproductive unit seems to be pretty laissez faire when it comes to monitoring all this weirdassed shit going on in there, and while most of the literature I read on the internet outlines at least one baseline scan, with regular blood tests throughout the cycle, I've had one blood test as an absolute baseline before commencing Synarel, and a second as a baseline before starting the fun part of the cycle. This has felt like such a cluster fuck already though, that nothing about this place either surprises or disappoints me anymore, and I'm just going along for the ride as they prescribe it, and hopefully I'm not either a) growing ovaries the size of Italy and with the potential to populate a new nation in there, or b) spending vast amounts of money and having ovaries the size of ovaries that do pretty much exactly what an ovary is expected to do. ie NOT expandify beyond all belief before spitting out way too many eggs to be considered normal.
posted by aibee at 16:06
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