Monday, January 10, 2011

Stick a Needle in Me, I'm Done.

Wait, I think that's supposed to be "fork" not "needle." I'm not sure which would have been more pleasant.

I get faint at the sight of blood, at least I did when I was younger. So I've never been fond of needles. It's funny how adaptable we humans are under the right circumstances. Although, maybe the word to describe me was desperate...?

I didn't like taking The Pill because I didn't want to put things into my body that it didn't produce...y'know aside from yummy food. Call me a Christian Scientist but drugs have always scared me.

When I was a kid, I would always get these ear infections and the antibiotics that helped rid the infection also threw my body out of balance. It's these things that freak me out.

So when I say I was desperate, I mean it. What the hell else would get me to inject (I said inject, as in NEEDLE) hormones into me? Repeatedly!?!

Actually, it got easier over time. Desensitization again. But again my efforts were in vain. We did this three times as well, in conjunction with IUI. The doctor said I wasn't producing enough eggs for us to do an IVF using my own eggs. They like to get 10 or more eggs for an IVF. With older eggs, I mean eggs from an older woman, less of a percentage actually fertilize or fertilize "well" and you want to have some to choose from to implant.

The first time I had 5 visible follicles developing and I ovulated prematurely. They weren't at the optimum size of 16-18 micrometres. My body was confused by the amount of hormones my multiple but small eggs were producing and thought it had one big one. Sigh.

The second, I had 3 visible follicles developing. My body triggered its own ovulation again but at an ok time. When it gets to this point with infertility treatments, the doctors don't really want the woman's body to do much of anything on it's own. They want to control it. It's a little scary.

The last time, even with all the hormones, I only had 1 beautiful follicle. I used the trigger shot for that one. But alas, that didn't work either. I had to take a break after that. I just felt so desperate during the cycle and depressed when I got my period. So much hung in the balance.

But really, it's all a freaking numbers game. One of these posts I'll try to remember all those depressing statistics that drastically lowered every 6-12 months for women of advanced age. At some point, you let go or give in or something and move on to the next step, whatever that is for you.

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