So I start stimming tonight. This is not a process by which I spend many hours in front of the PC controlling electronic lives (which I would like to do, only currently the study looks like a bomb went off in there, so I try to avoid it). Stims are the drugs that take your sleepy, dozy pre-menopausal ovaries and slap them. Really hard. So hard that they reverse speeds and go into mass egg production. The Easter Bunny, she is stopping by this weekend to pick up a bunch and dye them green.
The stims start tonight. And as I am fighting the plague of mankind otherwise known as the flu, I am really looking forward to it. The next two weeks are the slippery slope to the end of the IVF cycle, egg retrieval is still idealistically set for 28 April and I really hope it happens then or before then. The buserelin gives me headaches if I haven't connected my lips to the water faucet on a permanent basis. The doctors now want me to drink at least 2 litres of water and one litre of milk a day. This from a chick who's lactose intolerant, so Aidan and I are going into milkshake production (and not the kind that goes into the small plastic cup, either.) No one ever said an IVF cycle was a guaranteed weight loss plan.
So on Monday when I had the scan (they come at you with a dildo-shaped device, topped with a condom and some KY. It was the least sexual experience I have ever had with a sexually-shaped device. I would have asked her to turn it on vibrate but the nurse gave out waves of "sense of humor bypass", so I knew it wouldn't be popular.) we were running late. Heinously late. The traffic on the M3 was so bad that I was a coiled ball of tension, up until Aidan casually reached over and took my hand and told me that they needed me as much as I needed them.
I calmed down.
Previous to that, we'd been to our old house to shower (our new house has no shower, just a bathtub. That is being rectified this weekend, because taking a bath instead of the shower has "Lil Abner" written all over it.) Since we had to take our clothes with us, we showered and changed. I slid on my knickers when I realized they had a hole in the side.
My favorite knickers.
Hole in the side.
A memory flashed back of the new puppy, having swiped them off the line and running rampant with them in the living room.
With horror, I checked out my knickers. They were covered in holes. I only received the damn things for Valentine's Day, they are my favorite, and they looked like they had seen the bad side of an episode of Roseanne.
Aidan was in fits of laughter.
I was distraught. I was going to my first scan with panties that there was no way in hell I wanted to be caught dead in. I wailed a bit, and once we got there I went into the scan room with Aidan and shouted, all in one go:
"Pleaseexplaintothenurseabouttheknickersandthedog. OhmygodI'msoembarrassed."
I took a breath and hid in the bathroom.
As I came out, the nurse looked confused. "You have to strip from the waist down. I won't even see your pants."
Right.
Fuck.
I couldn't help but laugh. Well you probably could have left the knickers with the whole on and still had the wanding :-D.
I would have reacted in the abslute same way though. slightly hysterical with some anxiety and reduced brain functionality....not that I want to offend you :-D
Good luck with the stimming! We are right there tomether in the same time slot for retrieval!
/N
Posted by: One Half at April 14, 2006 08:53 PMYou are too, too funny! To tell you the truth, I'm pretty conscientous about wearing my "nice" underwear (or knickers as you adorably call them), even though no one ever sees them. I think it's because I have this fear that they will suddenly be exposed if my pants (ever so carefully placed so as to conceal the underwear) accidentally slide off the chair.
Hope you feel better soon!
Posted by: Ornery at April 14, 2006 08:30 AMYour cycle is turning out alot like mine, both with the flu at the start of stims and a couple of bad dogs. Baby cookies and gaterade got me through the flu. Too funny about the appointment - I was wondering, how does she wear her undies for a wanding (crochless?).
Posted by: jenny at April 13, 2006 11:50 PMpoor you. Bad dog.
Posted by: caltechgirl at April 13, 2006 10:57 PMHahahaha. Poor Vanessa. :( So, were you feeling a little perturbed at the dog?
Posted by: Jen at April 13, 2006 04:07 PM