The Saga Continues…

So…to continue…

Since there wasn’t much in the way of jobs in Oregon, and since my mother had moved quite far away, we got the idea into our heads to head back east and move to Florida where my father lived.

After a two-week car-trip (which deserves a post all on its own), we got settled in the Miami area and my husband got a job with ADT Security as a salesman.  As providence would have it, the health insurance that came with the job covered In-vitro. 

We got a referral from our doctor to the South Florida Institute for Reproductive Medicine and a Dr. Ellen Woods.  After some more tests on my husband’s  ‘guys’, they told us the news.  IUI (Inter-Uterine Insemination – think “In-vitro lite”) which was *WAY* cheaper, was out of the question.  Even regular In-vitro was out.  Nope, what we had to do was called “ICSI” whereby they inject his sperm directly into the egg, and if the egg survives that process and becomes fertilized, THEN they implant it into the female’s womb.  Kinda sounds like some plot from a Ridley Scott movie, huh?

So to get started, we both had to be tested for STD’s, which meant more blood being drawn.  Oodles of it.  With sharp needles.  Oh joy.

Then it seemed like every other day I had to head into the clinic, get more blood drawn (the way my inner-arms looked could have rivaled a hard-core junkie.) and take hormones.  Lots and lots of hormones.  Mind-altering hormones. 

I was taking hormones in every way it was possible to ingest them!  I had hormone patches for my stomach, injections for my legs, injections for my belly, hormone pills, hormone vaginal suppositories, and my favorite….drumroll please…. a BIG FAT NEEDLE in my butt – daily! 

My husband had to help me with the latter.  We weren’t even allowed to use numbing creams, just an ice cube.  We also had to hit a target area the size of a quarter with enough force so the needle would penetrate deep enough.  It was unnerving to say the least. 

My husband had a difficult time of it.  Every morning he had to plunge this huge honkin’ big ol’ needle in my hindquarters and somehow manage NOT to hit a vein, depress the plunger slowly enough and pull the whole thing out carefully so as not to hit anything bleedable on the way out. 

(By the way, get the one with a sesame oil base if you’re not allergic to sesame.  Supposedly it disperses easier than the one based on soy or other oils and doesn’t lump painfully under the skin upon injection.   Also, draw the amount you need into the needle at least about 15-20 mins before injection if it’s been refrigerated, so it can warm to room temp.)

He had to inject me for three months.

Oh, what fun times those were…

I still fondly remember the time he pulled the needle out and a strong spurt of blood shot out and hit a nearby wall, with both of us staring stupidly at it in shock for a few moments before our brains got the signal to “cap the gusher”.  After that we were even more freaked out when we had to do that particular injection.

And then there were the effects of the hormones…

Think extreme PMS on steroids, and you still won’t come close, though severe psychosis is a bit overstating it.

And things peaked every three days after the trans-dermal stomach patch really got going and I went sorta looney-tunes.

I was the Uber PMS Queen to end all PMS Queens.

There definitely needs to be a support group for husbands whose wives are undergoing this process.

Our pastor was flummoxed as to how to deal with this, as it didn’t quite fit under the heading: “Demonically Possessed”.  He sorta felt it was a medical problem, and as such, was out of his jurisdiction.

And oh, the things the clinic DIDN’T tell me!…but you’ll have to read the next post for that 🙂

Bye for now,

Lara

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