Color Me Poked

While pin cushion is the obvious metaphor for my belly the past few weeks, it would be more apt if the pin cushion swelled to unbuttonable-jeans size, felt like it’s been kicked over and over, bled on occasion, got terribly itchy hives, and bruised.

Nobody beats my blueberry muffin top

Tonight is the last shot in the gut. It’s the trigger shot, which tells the eggs, “We’re comin’ in after ya!” We’ve been going to the clinic every other day (often way too early in the morning) to check my blood and follicles. Getting blood drawn every other day would usually irritate me, but after three shots a day, I’ve learned not to care so much about needles to the arm. I’ve even gotten accustomed to the ultrasound dildo on an every Monday, Wednesday, Friday basis. But what I never expected was to feel my ovaries. I mean really feel them getting large…from the inside. Get uncomfortable; that’s the first step of pregnancy anyway, right?

So, as of this morning, I’ve got four nice looking follicles in the right ovary and one in the left. For now, we stop all meds except for the trigger shot, and I get to Fleets myself tomorrow evening, just to get in the mood.

Two weeks later: the biggies are fading, but little green ones have popped up all over!

Friday morning, they’ll sedate me, pump me with antibiotics, and go in with a needle through my vaginal wall, on either side, to suck out the eggs. I’ll start the daily injections of progesterone into my tuchas on Sunday. Woo-wee! I never thought reproduction could be so fun.

They’ll inject the eggs with our donor’s sperm and see if any fertilize. If there are some good looking ones, they’ll put ’em back in on Monday. If they look really good, they’ll let them grow a little bigger in the Petri dish, into blastocysts, and place them on Wednesday.

Then we wait. We wait and keep injecting my bum. I’ll probably cry a lot about how it’s not gonna work and how we’ve blown so much dough. Then, about two weeks later, we’ll go in for a blood test. THE blood test.

So, that’s the plan. Let’s not ever do this again.

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2 Responses to “Color Me Poked”


  1. 1 Mommy April 7, 2011 at 3:48 pm

    My poor ducky. How are your platelette numbers? Those were some wamba black and blue marks.

    Love and stuff

    • 2 mamawannabe April 7, 2011 at 5:12 pm

      Ya know, I wonder the same thing. No one is interested in testing my platelets, so I’ll just keep going in blissful ignorance. Obviously, it will become interesting to some doctor at some point if I do get preggers.


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(Disclaimer: No men were harmed in the making of this blog.)

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