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"As for me, I'll take one baby marinated in a dish please"

My farewell to progesterone

These last 10 weeks, I have not written one bad thing about how much I despise my progesterone suppositories.  I have not mentioned how gross they are, how they leak, how Ben has asked me more than once if I have toilet paper in my underwear.....(hey, desperate times call for desperate measures). There is a reason behind my lack of complaints this time around, which Ben so eloquently reminds me of every time I get ready to go into a progesterone tirade.



The story goes something like this:

September 8, 2011, our first round of IVF had just wrapped up and we decided to celebrate by flying to Bulgaria for some seaside relaxation.  We were flying Wizz Air, which charges for carry-on baggage, so we just brought a backpack.  We didn't need much, just our shorts, swimsuits, passports, and my progesterone.

So one two-hour Wizz Air flight later, we land at Burgas Airport (which by the way, was bombed 4-months later in an attack against Israel.  We sure know how to keep it excitingl!). 

Anyway, we pick up our rental car and off we go to the black sea.  After some sightseeing and lunch, relaxing at the beach is exactly what we did.

That first night I went to take my progesterone.  Oops.  I had brought the box that only had 1-full-day worth of pills rather than the full five-day box I thought I had brought with me.  At first I tried to be reasonable about the situation.  I would ration the pills over the course of the 5 days that we were in Bulgaria.  Yes, that would work.  I would take one in the morning and one at night rather than the two.  But then I did the math.  That wouldn't work at all.  Panic time.

I spent the whole night worrying about progesterone.  I couldn't sleep.  I couldn't stop thinking about it.  
The next morning I rationed.  One instead of two.  I did the same that night.  But then I had no more pills for the next three days.  "How could you do this to yourself?" I thought.  I jeopardized the whole IVF process.  All the money, all the effort of going abroad, all the shots in the stomach, everything.  I could have potentially ruined everything because of three days worth of progesterone supplements.  

Once again a sleepless night.  Except this one was even worse.  I had no more pills to ration.  All the thoughts came creeping back.  I had to tell Ben the next morning.  Would he blame me?  How could he not?  I had just ruined the whole experience with one oversight.  

It was a horrible night in Bulgaria.  And it didn't help that the bed in our condo was uncomfortable and the room smelled like sewer.  But the worst part about it was that I was positively sure that I single handedly ruined any chance of a baby Hummel. 

The next morning was confession time.  I spilled my big secret to Ben.  No more progesterone.  Dooms day.  Did I throw in tears?  Maybe.  But when you know you just wasted thousands of dollars, how could there not be tears.

He was annoyed.  But then he said the magic words, "I bet we can find a pharmacy around here that would sell it to us."

I was convinced we couldn't.  Nope, we were doomed.  There were no pharmacies.  But he was sure there were.  So off we went in search of of a big green neon cross.

Less than 2 minutes down the road we spotted one.  First challenge out of the way.  We went in and saw a pharmacist.  Did she speak English?  Not really.  I asked if you needed a Dr. note for medicine and she said yes.  I was devastated.  I needed a doctor.  

But Ben wasn't so quick to give up.  He showed the progesterone box to the lady and asked if we could buy it.  Finally understanding what we wanted, the lady sold us two boxes of the stuff.  What did I do?
I started crying.  Hysterically. I'm talking can't breath, suck the wind up sobs.  And I couldn't stop.  Ben was so startled, he quickly paid for the progesterone, told the lady that I was super hormonal and ushered me out of the store.  I ended up crying out the pharmacy into the car and back to the condo.  I had never been so happy to see those gross white balls in my life.  Two days of worrying myself sick.  Two days of thinking, no, knowing that I had ruined our chances of children.  Two days of hating myself beyond imagination.  And it was all solved in 20 minutes.

So now, whenever I start complaining about how gross it is, Ben reminds me of that day, and I quit my whining.

So, as I prepare to "take" my final progesterone suppository tonight, I must salute those little white balls and the progesterone they give my body to carry a baby.  

But I will not miss them when they're gone.


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A little bit of happy, a little bit of sad

We went into the doctor for our first ultrasound the other day.  The good news?  I managed to keep the picture from the doctor's office until it made it into my scanner.





Yep.  This time I won't have to use a random "7-week-ultrasound" picture off the internet for baby B's photo album (sorry Ellyette).

The bad news?  We did have two babies until one quit growing and developing a couple weeks ago.

I know this is a very common occurrence with twins and especially IVF twins, but I don't think that knowledge helps when you are looking at an ultrasound with two sacks, two stems, etc.  But only one heart beat.

I think as a woman (or maybe it's just me....) My first thought went to, "What did I do wrong?"  Even though I know I did nothing wrong.....Or maybe it WAS going right back to work after getting back from Europe.... I AM fairly sure that work causes most life issues.

And it doesn't help that my doctor has the bedside manner of a rock.  In her words, "if you wouldn't have seen this ultrasound, you might not have even known about it.  This sort of thing is very common."

And

"You might have to go through a miscarriage.  Bleeding, cramps...that sort of thing.  It shouldn't affect the other baby."

Thanks doc for your kind words.  I'll just go home and have a miscarriage then.  And after that, I'll throw up with morning sickness just for good measure.

Vent over.  After seeing both babies, I feel even more incredibly blessed with the one healthy pregnancy that I do have.  It puts into perspective what women (especially infertile women who suffer through miscarriages) deal with emotionally.  As a person who has had such success with pregnancy after IVF, I had my first glimpse into the other painful side of the infertility coin.

So my goal for now is to come up with an equally awesome name as Ziggy Stardust and to dust off my photoshop skills so I can dress up my new ultrasound baby.  Thank you technology.


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