We decided to move forward pretty quickly following the miscarriage. One last thing about that – prior to getting pregnant I had read, “Don’t tell anyone you’re pregnant who you’re not comfortable telling you’ve miscarried.” Thank goodness we only told a couple of people…not only did we avoid having to awkwardly tell a mess of folks that we were back to the drawing board, but more importantly, as excited as your dearest friends are for you that you’re pregnant, they also know just how to help you when you’re not.
I called The Russian. Having just been ready to start IVF 7 weeks prior I suddenly found myself NOT ready to start IVF, and while I played with the idea of trying naturally for awhile (especially since I’d gotten pregnant naturally) the doc and I agreed that that route had delay of game potential and that it was time to get aggressive. “Vee share the same goal and that is for you to leave vith a baby.” The Russian is wise.
I did 6 cycles of Clomid last year and felt like Clomid could go F itself. We opted for Folistim and an IUI. I can’t say that I was excited to go the IUI route again, but I needed a middle ground between going natural and going full science…..and this was The Russian, not the old codger at the other clinic….so it was worth a shot.
Speaking of shots, I’d given myself the Ovidrel trigger last summer (fyi, Ovidrel mimics your natural hormonal surge that tells your body to ovulate) so it wasn’t exactly my first rodeo. And, I’m enough of a tech nerd to dig the Follistim pen. That. Thing. Is. Cool.
1) It does all the work for ya.
2) it comes in a groovy little case
3) the needles are stupid sharp so it really doesn’t hurt but a smidge (allowing for the fact that everyone’s different, no judgment and my apologies if yours hurt like the dickens).
So I do the injections, I give blood, I have ultrasounds, I have one follicle kicking ass and 1 other likely to catch up by IUI time. I trigger, we go to the office, while we’re waiting for things to process, we go out to breakfast nearby at a Denny’s that coincidentally has 30-40 members of a senior citizen Harley-Davidson club carb-loading for a big ride. We head back to the office, I get the IUI and we wait.
Again with the waiting.
Alas, I get my period a few days before I was even supposed to go into the office for testing so we’re out of the game again.
This time though, I’m ready for IVF.
We sign a mess of papers, we get walked through a calendar of events and I start taking birth control pills to suppress my system before jacking it back up for the scientific magic making.
It’s exciting. It’s terrifying. And it’s a secret from almost everyone I know.