In the hour leading up til HCG time, I had this song stuck in my head. So, I made up my own version. Alright. I got lazy. I made up my own version, but only to the first verse. 😀
To the tune of Shots by LMFAO ft. Lil’ Jon
When I walk in the doctor’s office
All eyes on me
I’m clearly the in(fertile)
Why can’t drugs be free?
We take clomid
We take HCG
We came to make a baby
Let’s get it on
Shots shots shots shots shots shots
Shots shots shots shots shots
Shots shots shots shots shots
1 day til IUI
HCG shot taken at 11pm
The verdict: easy peasey. We (in)fertiles really build ourselves up. Once we conquer the task at hand, we usually realize it wasn’t so bad after all.
That was me all day, counting down the minutes until shot time.
I spent this evening watching The Vow with Rachel McAdams and Channing Tatum. Channing was a nice distraction for a few hours. I should have been smarter though. Hormonal + love stories = crying mess.
At 10:50 pm, I ventured upstairs to finally get this thing over with.
My fertility clinic gave me a handy 10-step sheet. My husband insisted on helping and gave me the instructions step-by-step. He did good until about Step 4. I had read and memorized Steps 1-3. It started to get hazy for me around Step 4. I listened to his instructions, paused and told him that didn’t sound correct. I grabbed the paper from his hand, read Step 4 and realized I was right. Like always. Men can never follow instructions.
My husband is notorious for throwing the instructions to the side when putting stuff together. In the end, he usually misses a piece and has to start all over. I love him. I truly do. But, following instructions is just not his thing.
So, I read the instructions to myself as I moved along. Step 9 was THE STEP. I knew where I was going to inject, but looking at the needle in my hand and my tummy in the mirror was just too much for me. I stopped and asked my husband if he could do it. He mumbled something about how I would be fine and to stop looking in the mirror.
Believe it or not, some tasks are more difficult for me because I have gigantic ta-tas. I often dread how enormous they are going to get when I am pregnant. Not a gift. More often a nuisance. So yes, there I was standing in my bathroom, HCG shot in hand, attempting to juggle my giant bra-less breasts out of the way, so I could look down and find that perfect spot to inject myself. My husband ask me if I wanted him to hold them for me. Not funny.
I finally finagled my way to a spot to the right of my belly button. I went for it: inserted needle, injected HCG, pulled out needle. Task complete.
I was surprised that a little bit came out after I pulled the needle out. I held my hand over the spot and lightly massaged it as the instructions requested. The only after effects I’ve had are some slight tingles near the injection spot.
On a pain scale, I’d seriously rate this like a 0.5. I have an extremely high pain tolerance though. Could I do it again? Definitely – if I have to. And we all know I’m praying I don’t.
We’re having an extremely cold spell up here on the Canadian Prairies. We couldn’t even get the vehicles started today. If the weather forecast is still cold and snowy for tomorrow, we will leave mid-afternoon to go to Saskatoon. I’d rather be safe and sit on my butt in the hotel room 5 minutes away from the clinic than have the weather get in my way.
Two sleeps to go. IUI#1 – here we come.