PITA
My most recent visit to the clinic thankfully went well, other than a long wait for an ultrasound. I saw my first male doctor in this group, and he was one of the first people to not treat me like I’m an idiot. He explained what everything meant, which was refreshing, and even seemed annoyed that I hadn’t been told certain things. Thanks for finally being on my side, someone. Also, though he struggled to find my ovaries, he did manage both of them after he took his time. He seemed absolutely appalled that someone had sent me away without finding one last week. I felt awfully validated.
Later that day, a nurse called me to let me know that all of my levels were right on target. Keep with estrogen 3x daily and start progesterone shots on the 26, as planned.
Oh, those dreaded words. Progesterone shots. The most terrifying part of this whole thing. The thing that my doctor told me on day 1 would really hurt, that women in the social media groups I’m part of lament on the regular. And I had to spend all of Christmas Day looking ahead to that.
Before we got out of bed Christmas morning, we watched the administration video (linked here in case you want to see it in all its horror) so we would know what to do the next day. You have to take the first shot between 6-8 am, so we wanted to make sure we knew what we were getting into and how much prep it would take. I had watched enough injection administration videos before to know what they were like.
Except none of them were quite as special as this one. First of all- the size of the needle used to administer this shit. Remember the needle I was scared about using for the trigger shot? The one for progesterone is both longer AND thicker. Seeing it in the video made me dizzy. Then, when the woman in the video injected it, she really plunged it in. Top speed, like she was trying to kill someone. Ugh. How on earth was I going to do this? No actual idea. My husband kept saying he would do it, but I knew it’d be a challenge for him. Not to mention, after plunging the large needle into my upper bum (because that’s where it goes- the upper outer quadrant of your butt cheeks, alternating daily), you have to draw the needle back to make sure no blood gets in there; otherwise it means you’ve injected into a blood vessel, which is not what you want.
The thought of jabbing myself with that massive thing (that’s what she said) and then pulling my blood out of my body? That would ensure fainting.
Once you’re sure you’re not in a blood vessel, you inject the progesterone. It’s in oil, making it a much thicker liquid than the others I injected previously. Those sometimes put up a fight, so getting this injection in might be a real test of my thumb muscles.
I was mostly able to put it out of my mind throughout the day. It would creep back into my consciousness occasionally and make me feel woozy. I reached out in some social media groups for advice, and for the first time, I was told the shots wouldn’t be that bad. I didn’t trust that, as I had heard so much of the opposite until then. I got a tip to use a topical cream with lidocaine in it, as this would numb the area, so we stopped and picked that up. That, of course, gave me something else to worry about; how far in advance should I apply the cream, how long do I leave it on, do I have to wash it off before the injections or is an alcohol swab enough? I threw those questions out to social media, too.
Luckily for me at this stage, my family is small. I have no siblings or cousins, so no one expecting to make me feel awful. Just an aquaintance’s Facebook announcement (why do I even subject myself to Facebook? I should know better by now) and some of those heart wrenching commercials featuring adorable children on Christmas opening presents with their happy families. (I don’t begrudge these people their happiness, but it’s be nice to have some kind of recognition for those of us who are struggling with this at this auspiciously difficult time of year.)
I allowed myself some self pity that night as I got into bed. Allowed myself a few tears and some thoughts of how unfair this entire production is. Allowed my brain to circle back to the fact that most people get to have a lot of fun while trying to make a baby, whereas I get to have a lot of anxiety and a lot of physical and emotional pain. I know I can't make these thoughts a way of life, but I also know that I am entitled to feel my own emotions from time to time.
The next morning, we woke up at 7:30 and put the cream on. Walked around the house a little bit while it did its numbing thing. After half an hour of that, hubby prepared the injection. He'd gotten really good at that with the last set of shots. Draw the air into the needle, inject it into the container of liquid, draw back the liquid you need, switch the needle tip, push out any air bubbles. Easy peasy.
Hubby knelt down next to my exposed upper butt cheek and took a few huffing deep breaths. He was holding the needle about an inch in front of my skin... I was waiting for him to move it closer... I had no idea how much it was going to hurt or if he was going to warn me the way phlebotomists do... Finally, I said, "I have to do it. Give me the needle." I couldn't take the anticipation of it, and I didn't want hubby blaming himself if this really hurt.
I got the needle into my own bottom, and I was amazed at how much it didn't hurt and how easily it went in. But as soon as it was in there, my head started to spin. I leaned against a chair and had hubby check for a blood vessel and then inject the progesterone. Then I had to lay down on the kitchen floor and wait for the lightheadedness to pass. I felt weak and stupid having to do that, but I remembered that the same thing happened last time, and after the second day, it didn't happen again. It was probably a manifestation of the anticipation of the event. Now it was over.
When the dizziness subsided, I stuck a heating pad in my pants and made sure to do a lot of walking around. Apparently the oil that the progesterone is in can crystallize slightly in the body, so heating pads and muscle movement keep it flowing. It kept not feeling too bad at all. What was the big deal?
About an hour later, though, I did start to feel something. The injection site was getting quite sore. It started to feel like I had done a major leg day workout, lots of squats. It only got worse from there. Pretty soon, I was having trouble sitting down, standing up, and beginning to walk. Once I was sitting, staying seated wasn't bad, and the same with walking. The action of changing movement, though, was difficult.
I broke down and took some Advil in the afternoon, but I soon discovered that I really should ask my nurse if that was okay. I was also told that lidocaine cream might not be recommended, either. I sent an e-mail off to my nurse asking about the cream (not recommended because they're unsure if it inhibits the body's ability to absorb the progesterone), working out (no heavy lifting or overly intense cardio at the moment, though with the way my butt is feeling, that's not much of a problem for me, anyway), and Advil (Tylenol is what's recommended). Hope I didn't mess things up with my jumping the gun with the cream and pain killers.
That night, I had to take a second shot. Typically, you only take one a day, but the first one always has to be taken in the morning. If you want to switch over to a night schedule because it's better suited to you, you have to take a second shot on the first day between 8-10 pm. This one went in the right butt cheek. I used ice to numb the skin, and I got a better idea of what it actually feels like. The shot itself still doesn't hurt, but it does take more pressure to get the needle all the way in. It's more obviously cylindrical than the last needles as it's thicker. The top part of it is sliced off at an angle so there's an uneven point. The thinnest, sharpest part goes in very easily, but then it just kind of sticks in place. It has to be pushed in with more moderate umph, and you can actually feel the pierce of the whole thing breaking the skin. That sounds horrific, I know, because I saw the look on Hubby's face when I described it to him, but it still doesn't hurt. Hubby did the actual injecting again.
Just like having a baby naturally! I glide the pointy bit in, he squirts. Ha. I'm hilarious.
So is Hubby. I'm making a lot of sharp breathing noises when I stand up and sit down, which makes me feel like a wimp, butt whatever. Last night, Hubby said at one point, "Hey, our baby isn't even implanted yet, and she's already a pain in the ass. Literally!"
What are you going to do if you can't laugh about it?
With injections done in both sides, today was painful. Tylenol doesn't help as much as the Advil I took yesterday did. But I'm surviving, and I'm still going. Just did a third injetion, the second in my left side. This one bled a lot more than the two previous. I'm relatively dreading what my butt is going to feel like tomorrow when the pain increases. Hopefully my muscles will get used to it all soon.
I know I have 20 days worth of progesterone. It'd be great if I didn't have to use all of it. Another prayer for me on that front would be great.
Tonight, we went out to dinner to a restaurant that we've frequented with my parents for years. We had a waitress who hadn't seen us in awhile, and she asked us how our jobs are, our house. "I said to your dad before you sat down, no grandkids yet, huh?"
Sigh. Society is still not on board with me here about not asking women about children, I guess. "It's literally a sore subject," I told her, shifting around on my aching backside.
She didn't get what that meant.
There is one fun thing that I can think of that's come out of this. When it's all over, I'll know for sure that I'm more of a badass than most of my friends. Sticking these needles in my own butt every night? Never how I envisioned this going.
Monitoring Sunday, transfer on Monday.
Later that day, a nurse called me to let me know that all of my levels were right on target. Keep with estrogen 3x daily and start progesterone shots on the 26, as planned.
Oh, those dreaded words. Progesterone shots. The most terrifying part of this whole thing. The thing that my doctor told me on day 1 would really hurt, that women in the social media groups I’m part of lament on the regular. And I had to spend all of Christmas Day looking ahead to that.
Before we got out of bed Christmas morning, we watched the administration video (linked here in case you want to see it in all its horror) so we would know what to do the next day. You have to take the first shot between 6-8 am, so we wanted to make sure we knew what we were getting into and how much prep it would take. I had watched enough injection administration videos before to know what they were like.
Except none of them were quite as special as this one. First of all- the size of the needle used to administer this shit. Remember the needle I was scared about using for the trigger shot? The one for progesterone is both longer AND thicker. Seeing it in the video made me dizzy. Then, when the woman in the video injected it, she really plunged it in. Top speed, like she was trying to kill someone. Ugh. How on earth was I going to do this? No actual idea. My husband kept saying he would do it, but I knew it’d be a challenge for him. Not to mention, after plunging the large needle into my upper bum (because that’s where it goes- the upper outer quadrant of your butt cheeks, alternating daily), you have to draw the needle back to make sure no blood gets in there; otherwise it means you’ve injected into a blood vessel, which is not what you want.
The thought of jabbing myself with that massive thing (that’s what she said) and then pulling my blood out of my body? That would ensure fainting.
Once you’re sure you’re not in a blood vessel, you inject the progesterone. It’s in oil, making it a much thicker liquid than the others I injected previously. Those sometimes put up a fight, so getting this injection in might be a real test of my thumb muscles.
I was mostly able to put it out of my mind throughout the day. It would creep back into my consciousness occasionally and make me feel woozy. I reached out in some social media groups for advice, and for the first time, I was told the shots wouldn’t be that bad. I didn’t trust that, as I had heard so much of the opposite until then. I got a tip to use a topical cream with lidocaine in it, as this would numb the area, so we stopped and picked that up. That, of course, gave me something else to worry about; how far in advance should I apply the cream, how long do I leave it on, do I have to wash it off before the injections or is an alcohol swab enough? I threw those questions out to social media, too.
Luckily for me at this stage, my family is small. I have no siblings or cousins, so no one expecting to make me feel awful. Just an aquaintance’s Facebook announcement (why do I even subject myself to Facebook? I should know better by now) and some of those heart wrenching commercials featuring adorable children on Christmas opening presents with their happy families. (I don’t begrudge these people their happiness, but it’s be nice to have some kind of recognition for those of us who are struggling with this at this auspiciously difficult time of year.)
I allowed myself some self pity that night as I got into bed. Allowed myself a few tears and some thoughts of how unfair this entire production is. Allowed my brain to circle back to the fact that most people get to have a lot of fun while trying to make a baby, whereas I get to have a lot of anxiety and a lot of physical and emotional pain. I know I can't make these thoughts a way of life, but I also know that I am entitled to feel my own emotions from time to time.
The next morning, we woke up at 7:30 and put the cream on. Walked around the house a little bit while it did its numbing thing. After half an hour of that, hubby prepared the injection. He'd gotten really good at that with the last set of shots. Draw the air into the needle, inject it into the container of liquid, draw back the liquid you need, switch the needle tip, push out any air bubbles. Easy peasy.
Hubby knelt down next to my exposed upper butt cheek and took a few huffing deep breaths. He was holding the needle about an inch in front of my skin... I was waiting for him to move it closer... I had no idea how much it was going to hurt or if he was going to warn me the way phlebotomists do... Finally, I said, "I have to do it. Give me the needle." I couldn't take the anticipation of it, and I didn't want hubby blaming himself if this really hurt.
I got the needle into my own bottom, and I was amazed at how much it didn't hurt and how easily it went in. But as soon as it was in there, my head started to spin. I leaned against a chair and had hubby check for a blood vessel and then inject the progesterone. Then I had to lay down on the kitchen floor and wait for the lightheadedness to pass. I felt weak and stupid having to do that, but I remembered that the same thing happened last time, and after the second day, it didn't happen again. It was probably a manifestation of the anticipation of the event. Now it was over.
When the dizziness subsided, I stuck a heating pad in my pants and made sure to do a lot of walking around. Apparently the oil that the progesterone is in can crystallize slightly in the body, so heating pads and muscle movement keep it flowing. It kept not feeling too bad at all. What was the big deal?
About an hour later, though, I did start to feel something. The injection site was getting quite sore. It started to feel like I had done a major leg day workout, lots of squats. It only got worse from there. Pretty soon, I was having trouble sitting down, standing up, and beginning to walk. Once I was sitting, staying seated wasn't bad, and the same with walking. The action of changing movement, though, was difficult.
I broke down and took some Advil in the afternoon, but I soon discovered that I really should ask my nurse if that was okay. I was also told that lidocaine cream might not be recommended, either. I sent an e-mail off to my nurse asking about the cream (not recommended because they're unsure if it inhibits the body's ability to absorb the progesterone), working out (no heavy lifting or overly intense cardio at the moment, though with the way my butt is feeling, that's not much of a problem for me, anyway), and Advil (Tylenol is what's recommended). Hope I didn't mess things up with my jumping the gun with the cream and pain killers.
That night, I had to take a second shot. Typically, you only take one a day, but the first one always has to be taken in the morning. If you want to switch over to a night schedule because it's better suited to you, you have to take a second shot on the first day between 8-10 pm. This one went in the right butt cheek. I used ice to numb the skin, and I got a better idea of what it actually feels like. The shot itself still doesn't hurt, but it does take more pressure to get the needle all the way in. It's more obviously cylindrical than the last needles as it's thicker. The top part of it is sliced off at an angle so there's an uneven point. The thinnest, sharpest part goes in very easily, but then it just kind of sticks in place. It has to be pushed in with more moderate umph, and you can actually feel the pierce of the whole thing breaking the skin. That sounds horrific, I know, because I saw the look on Hubby's face when I described it to him, but it still doesn't hurt. Hubby did the actual injecting again.
Just like having a baby naturally! I glide the pointy bit in, he squirts. Ha. I'm hilarious.
So is Hubby. I'm making a lot of sharp breathing noises when I stand up and sit down, which makes me feel like a wimp, butt whatever. Last night, Hubby said at one point, "Hey, our baby isn't even implanted yet, and she's already a pain in the ass. Literally!"
What are you going to do if you can't laugh about it?
With injections done in both sides, today was painful. Tylenol doesn't help as much as the Advil I took yesterday did. But I'm surviving, and I'm still going. Just did a third injetion, the second in my left side. This one bled a lot more than the two previous. I'm relatively dreading what my butt is going to feel like tomorrow when the pain increases. Hopefully my muscles will get used to it all soon.
I know I have 20 days worth of progesterone. It'd be great if I didn't have to use all of it. Another prayer for me on that front would be great.
Tonight, we went out to dinner to a restaurant that we've frequented with my parents for years. We had a waitress who hadn't seen us in awhile, and she asked us how our jobs are, our house. "I said to your dad before you sat down, no grandkids yet, huh?"
Sigh. Society is still not on board with me here about not asking women about children, I guess. "It's literally a sore subject," I told her, shifting around on my aching backside.
She didn't get what that meant.
There is one fun thing that I can think of that's come out of this. When it's all over, I'll know for sure that I'm more of a badass than most of my friends. Sticking these needles in my own butt every night? Never how I envisioned this going.
Monitoring Sunday, transfer on Monday.
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