I’ve been having crazy thoughts. Thought like: ‘what I really want at the end of this road is a screaming baby, not a handful of eggs.’
Even crazier is the realization that I’m actually enjoying this process. ‘Is it kind of like how some women enjoy pregnancy, and others don’t?’ I initially thought.
I don’t think so. I think the answer is far more sad. I think it has to do with the fact that harvesting my eggs, caring for them and nurturing them to make sure I get the best, healthiest ones, is the closest I’ve come to motherhood, and I’m having serious anxiety about the fact that it may very well be the closest I come to carrying a baby of my own.
I know it’s a bit of a depressing post, but it’s how I’m feeling, and if this blog can’t be honest, then I shouldn’t write it. I do, however, reserve the right to blame it on my hormone injections!
On a lighter note, my shots were kind of interesting today.
The first shot of the day was my first Ganirelix shot, which I was quite nervous about because it’s a different solution. My mom is here with me and insists on ‘helping’ with everything. She was making crazy suggestions as I was giving myself the shot, so I’m literally arguing with her as I’m injecting myself. For those of you who know me and my mom, you won’t find this shocking. She and I could have an argument walking down the aisle. In fact, we nearly did at my wedding – perhaps that was a sign?
Then tonight, it took two takes for the Follistim shot – again, something to do with dear old mom! Take 1.
Take 2.
Nighty.
Header Photo Sourced from Pinterest
