As of this time tomorrow, I should be about twenty eggs lighter, which is no joke because as of Monday, the sonographer--who is normally one of the most confidence inspiring medical personnel I've ever met--temporarily mistook my left ovary for my right. "Silly ovaries," she quipes, "you're too close together!"
Ah, shit! My ovaries are so swollen that they had seemingly merged on the sonogram machine. What?
My meds dropped down to the bare minimum dosage for Saturday and Sunday nights, and we were rewarded on Monday with thick uterine lining, growth on the follicles that were more mature on Saturday, and slowed growth for the immature follicles. My right ovary is out-producing my left, both in size and quantity. Either way, my sonographer swears that I'm overachieving and doing great. They scheduled me for a 7:30 trigger shot on Monday, which meant no more Lupron, Follistim, or Menopur. I also dropped the Lovenox, but that will come back tomorrow night.
Hurricane Sandy kept one of my very favorite people in town for a few extra days, so instead of quietly triggering at home, like last time, I packed up my insulated lunch sack and headed out on the town. I triggered in the women's restroom at a Turkish restaurant, which is probably weirder for a Texas girl than the sports bar of yester-cycle.
Today was a great day at work, despite a rough parent phone call, and I finished it up with a late meeting with my district curriculum writing team. I work with some amazing men and women, and it was really nice to see them all in person and hear their well-wishes for our retrieval tomorrow.
I'm just a little anxious, and I'm determined not to toss and turn, so I am just watching Dancing with the Stars and trying not to notice my seriously swollen, very silly ovaries.
No comments:
Post a Comment