Stepping into real time for a moment: Wednesday morning, on the twelfth day of the twelfth month of 2012, I am going in for my twelfth egg retrieval. That’s got to be good luck, right? Here’s to creating some beautiful embryos and then freezing them; all previous IVFs we have put what are called ‘freshies’ back in. They’ve always been grade A, and yet the embryos either didn’t attach to my uterus or I had a chemical pregnancy. I suspect that this is because of the altered state my body is in directly after the stimulation, no surprise considering what my body and I go through. Freezing is something we haven’t tried yet, and I suspect THAT will be the trick. Here’s to lucky number twelve!
And now for Two Surgeries & Some Medication 2009, part 2
I often think of the movie “Requiem for a Dream” when I think of the ritual of taking of drugs, and the actual reaction of my body to drugs. As already mentioned, I am sober for many years, as somewhere along the way I developed an allergic reaction, to put it mildly, to what started out as recreational drug taking. And so it’s a highly sensitive thing for me, to put drugs in my body that I know are going to change me.
But let me give this some perspective: a pre menopausal woman who is healthy ovulates an egg every month. When going through fertility efforts, the goal is to force exponentially more follicles into growing into eggs before forcing them to ovulate. Force is likely a violent word, and while I’ve begun to look at the drugs as my friends, I am highly cognizant that I am forcing my body to do something unnatural.
I was warned of the side effects of Follistim, which include weight gain, irritability, night sweats, and insomnia.
The ritual of taking these drugs carries qualities that if someone isn’t already OCD, she may become addicted because of the repetitive qualities of the actual act:
Open the Follistim Pen, put in the cartridge, consult the ledger to be reminded which side of the belly the drug went into yesterday, deduct prescribed amount from the size of the cartridge (which comes in 300, 600, 900 plus some undetermined amount of overflow).
Disinfect my abdomen on either right or left side, depending which side it went into yesterday, making sure to have disinfected the top of the cartridge upon putting into the pen-like device.
Twist knob to control how much the dose is; for AI it vacillates between 150 and 225 (I would later learn that the dosage goes up as the prescription increases for IVF efforts).
Apply needle, and then first twist off big needle cap then remove the smaller one.
Squeeze fat of abdomen slightly and put the needle in.
Press on the dosage amount, which releases the fluid into the body. Keep fat of body squeezed and once the inserting is done, keep needle in for around 5 seconds.
I of course keep it in for 10, because the drugs are so intense that everything seems to me like it’s in fast forward and keeping the needle in for 10 seconds will counteract the fear that I’m counting way too fast.
Once dosage is in, I carefully would remove the pen and needle, and now take large needle cap and twist on before pulling off the actual needle. Put into the disposal needle kit.
If you’re lazy and have beautifully manicured nails that could get chipped by opening the disposable container that the pharmacy has provided, perhaps you throw the needles in the trash – like I, on occasion, did and do.
Then it’s time to calculate today’s dosage in the calendar, and make note of which side ‘took’ the shot. Then back to the produce section of the refrigerator the Follistim cartridge and medicine and case goes, as it a perishable medication.
The actual FEELING the drug gives is pretty gnarly. On one occasion, I described the feeling moments later as if I could hear a dog barking 3 miles away; my shoulders tense up and raise immediately. I feel the medicine rushing through me, and course through my blood stream. I have to actually remind myself to breathe.
I was already an insomniac, I theorized some residual effect of my earlier drugs years, and now I experienced increased restless sleeping. I would sweat profusely after only minimal exertion. My already overweight body would get extremely bloated. And yet I was highly optimistic, and incredibly determined.
Once Dr. T believed the follicles were ready, I had two; he prescribed an HCG shot ($52.94), which triggers the follicles-now-turned-into-eggs into ovulation. I had done this on previous AIs as well so was somewhat familiar. The shot had to be given to me by Craig in my butt, at an exact time determined by Dr. T. The reason for the exact time is that within 36 – 41 hours this medication will force the eggs to drop, and the doctor had to make sure the sperm could get to those eggs before that window closes; the procedures would be scheduled accordingly.
I would have to remove the exact portion of saline water from its bottle, drop it into the vial with the powder, and then swirl around gently until everything was mixed. Instructions were very specific that this medication could not be shaken, so of course I was hyper paranoid that any wrong activity would stop the medication from working and thereby disrupt the mission I was on. Once all of it was mixed, I would pull all of the medication out into the 3cc syringe, switch that needle with the 25.5 needle, pull my pajamas down, and tell Craig exactly where to shoot it: at a 90 degree angle – after he had disinfected the area with an alcohol swab. (I had gone into the doctor for the previous HCG injections.)
He was so nervous the first time, which I thought was funny, as by this time I had undergone 2 surgeries in that year alone and for that past week daily shots; my belly had bruises all over it; for me, it was just another necessary step, and I didn’t have time to flinch. Even when blood came out after he removed the needle and swabbed the area, I pulled up my PJs nonchalantly, with a sense of real accomplishment at having done the next step, as prescribed.
This cycle’s AI #1 and AI #2 followed, with Craig producing his specimen at home, and then him rushing from our home in Venice to the doctor’s office in West LA, where he would drop me off with the sperm in a brown paper bag that also held any necessary consent forms, before he would then proceed to work in our shared vehicle. I would turn the specimen in at the pre-designated appointment time, usually around 7:30 AM so that Craig wouldn’t miss any work, which meant I was typically the first patient and on a few occasions arrived before any of the staff.
I would wait for 1-hour for the sperm to be cleaned to get the best swimmers, and then be guided into the doctor’s office at which point the doctor would ~ like in all other AI appointments I’d had by this time ~ confirm that the sperm was Craig’s therefore mine by checking name and birthdate, and then insert it into my vagina with a catheter. Once complete, I would wait 20 minutes often with my knees to my chest to invite those beautiful little sperm to find my egg, before I checked out at the front desk (approximately $560 for the sperm cleaning and the Artificial Insemination at this office), and then walk over 3 long blocks to the bus stop which included walking under a freeway overpass, which was always pretty gross, and then take 2 buses home.
And the day of my 2nd AI, we would have sex, too, and then that night, begin inserting a medication called Progesterone into me vaginally, that was meant to decrease chance of miscarriage.
20 days later, unfortunately my period arrived. I was sad and of course highly disappointed, but simply picked up the phone and made an appointment with Dr. T for Day 3, once again. We went straight into another cycle, which meant approximately another $1,000 in medication, since I had some left over, plus of course the costs for the doctor visits, the sperm cleaning, and the bus fare.
A complete week of Follistim at 150 a day, followed by 2 AIs and sex on both days, and I started the Progesterone again, this time one day early.
It had been 20 days since the last day of my last period, and I had a little blood spotting when I wiped. I guess I thought it might be my period, but it didn’t actually come that day.
Or the next day.
So on July 9th, 2009, I took a pregnancy test that came up positive.
Over the moon. Through the roof. Elated. Happy. Grateful. Thrilled. I was beside myself with happiness, and scheduled an official blood test with Dr. T’s office the next morning. And low and behold, a total of 12 AIs, at least 10 tries of sex timed to ovulation, 2 surgeries, countless ultra sounds and doctor visits, and almost $15,000 later, I was pregnant.
And we could not have been happier.