Wednesday, April 26, 2006
I wait for long time
Shoes for this cycle: The aquamarine floral flats by KEDS. They are cute, simple and sure-win with any outfits. I reckon anyway. I shall wear them in the delivery room if this IVF cycle works out.
After posting last night complaining about the lack of bloatiness and general fertility pains, I certainly paid for it. Fucking in PAIN all last night, so bad that it kept me awake most of the time. I didn't have the heart to wake Apeman up and tell him ALL about it. This morning I had to hobble to the toilet, once again grit my teeth so I can squeeze out as much pee as I can to relieve my internal organs.
The highlight of the day is the much anticipated vaginal probe and blood tests. Today is a good day. Only two attempts at the poor right arm, not too painful at all. I need to buy that right arm vein some flowers one day.
Ultrasound today shows:
LHS: Pretty much bugger-all, the ultrasound doc didn't think it was worth writing the sizes down. The follicles just didn't grow much - which is fine by me. I want my little ovary to have as little response as possible because that was the ovary of grief. No worries there.
RHS: I think there were 13. When I say I think it's because I suspect the doc might have double-accounted some of them. Like, how can you possibly tell you are not measuring one you have just measured before? It's like trying to count clouds, or beans, or whatever. The smallest one is 1.3, then there is a bunch of 1.6 - 2.0, another bunch of 2.1 to 2.6. Then there is the biggest one which measures at 2.8. I think that is a little too ripe for picking. I read somewhere (in the cyberspace) that eggs sharn't be too immature (ie. too small) or too mature (ie. too big). So all in all there's 13 likely prospects. Am going to get the big trigger needle in a couple of hours time. Collection on friday morning. Whooo-hoo to that. Overall the sizes for this cycle in comparison to my other fresh ones seems a little bigger on average.
Went home in tears because my right ovary was hurting so much, it wasn't tears of self-pity, it was tears of blinding pain. I was in real twisted pain at work trying to finish off this stupid report nobody wants to write. I should learn to say no more often.
I told Apeman he better get ready for some fertilisation loving on friday.
`You mean, like, I am going to spray (ejaculate, come) all over the petri dish?'
And I am going to propagate the Ape-clan with this man. It was a good laugh anyway, I know he was trying to make me laugh. It was a tough day and he knows this is a tough game.
Right now I am reading Belle de Jour's Diary of a London Call Girl. It's the second time I've read it. I don't think it is at all glamarous what she does (or did) for a living, but fair enough, it's still a job. She's a very infectious writer nevertheless. I am an underpaid engineer who gets fucked by the corporation I work for by taking less cut of my rate (in comparison to what I am charged out for) and does all the shitty work (ie. doing work you don't get credit for, and is manipulated into believing you are making a big contribution to the project, but somehow you just don't seem to be able to reap the rewards).
It's still prostitution in some ways I guess.
Anyway - egg collection friday.