Two big things are happening tomorrow: I'm going to take an Accounting Test for which I am under prepared, and I am going to come home and take my first shot of Lupron.
To celebrate Lupron Eve, I had a delicious Chicken Nugget Value Meal from Mc Donald's. Because YUM. With hot mustard, for extra yummy goodness. And then I am going to go to the vending machine before class and have some sort of disgusting candy-bar carb type thing. Preferably something I can eat in small pieces during Auditing class.
At risk of sounding overly dramatic, I can't help but feel like this is my last normal day for...how long? At least a month. Hopefully 9 months or so. Maybe just 6 weeks. Who knows?
Hopefully the next time I feel super bloated and eat McDonalds, it will be baby bloat and not annoying pointless Clomid bloat. But since false optimism isn't really my thing, I know there's a 50/50 chance I'll be eating Mc Donald's either way because I love grease and it is my goal to become a solid from eating grease.
I've been thinking about how this should all go down tomorrow night, and I can't decide. Do I make Mark watch. Am I all, "You stand right here, motherfucker, and watch me do this!" Or do I let him off the hook and do it myself? Then what, wait for quasi-menopause to begin? So weird, all of it.
I don't know. I'm sure it's something that will become very much routine to me and it won't matter after a while. I'll look back at this post and think, "silly infertile whore." Kind of like looking back at my writing while TTC, before finding out that it isn't just going to happen, ever. Or looking back at your middle school diary and being amazed at how much drama occurred because someone purposely bought the same Trapper Keeper and you wanted to be original, dammit!*
This is my last day before IVF. In one way or another, everything changes after today.
*For my wedding shower, my grandma gave me some letters I wrote to her when I was really young. One of them was all about how I got into a fight with another kid over a Berenstein Bear book. Another was how I was so pissed that we had to say the Pledge every morning before class and how I hated it so much it made me want to take a nap. I was a pain in the ass back then, just like now.
4 comments:
Whoo! Good luck on all counts - the accounting (yech) and the IVF (yay)!
I can totally beat you on amazingly crazy things you wrote as a kid though - I wrote a pretend newspaper article about how we needed to elect George Bush (the first). YIKES.
I have my husband mix the Menopur concoction. It's my way of making him have a part in it. Plus, I'm nervous about the air bubbles and getting it right, etc. Yet, I have absolutely no problem with jabbing myself in the stomach! I go in the bathroom to do that, privately. Something about grabbing my fat roll in front of him, I can't do. Plus, the mirror is handy.
Anyone who can do the injection(s) herself is very brave in my book! I'm not so good with needles. DH maintains his EMT, so I imagine he'll be involved when we get to the same point. (no pun intended with the point/needle reference)
Good luck with that and the Accounting Test.
Also, I don't think you are being overly dramatic feeling like everything changes today. I can only hope that we reach the same point as quickly as you after our meeting with the RE.
(and can I write any more in the comments?)
So, how was the big shot, big shot? (doing it yourself-- wowsers!) Congrats on getting going... I am kinda jealous you are starting down the road... (but also glad that you go first and I get to read about it!!) Details, please!
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