Truckin' Along

Today is med day 5 and I’ve got about 17 follies at this point, all around 10 mm.  I’m pleased with that.  Lining is only at 5 mm, but we have time.  I’m strangely uncomfortable physically and usually I don’t feel anything until the morning of retrieval.

My protocol is unique enough that no one entirely knows what to expect, but so far things seem to be going well.  Since I had a Lupron Depot shot, there’s no Lupron and no antagon with my stims.  We’re just letting things grow and planning that the depot shot keeps me appropriately suppressed.  I’m taking more Menopur than Gonal-F and it’s usually the other way around at my clinic.  I’m supplementing estrogen around retrieval time along with the usual antibiotic, steroid, baby aspirin, and progesterone.

It’s strange how at home this all starts to feel.  Joking with your RE and the nurses in the hallway while totally ignoring the giant invasion of privacy you just received.  Calling your husband on the way to the office with the rundown: “There’s about 17, all are around 10, we’re not changing anything.” “Got it!”  Getting to work and just plopping on down and starting the day like nothing has happened.  This is my life.  C’est la vie. 

This cycle is showing us how ready we really are to be done with all of this.  Of course we hope that there are finally two little lines at the end of this cycle, but I think that if there isn’t we will feel at peace that we’ve done everything we could.  We’re emotionally wiped.  Even if the littlest hill is placed in front of us, we are protesting about how tired we are and how sick we are of climbing mountains when others have nothing but plains.  Our whole marriage has been about trying to make a baby and we’re ready to just enjoy each other, baby or no.