How Many Hands Does it Take to Rub a Butt?

My husband did a brave thing tonight. He overcame his apprehension about giving me a shot and took the plunge, pardon the pun. I was a bit nervous as he prepared for the task. I knew he and my sister were getting the syringe ready. They tried hard to hide it, but I'm fairly observant which consequently makes it hard to pull a fast one on me.

I was quite pleased with myself that I was better able to control my nerves and face the needle without tears or other signs of anxiety. In truth I've pretty much just resigned myself to dealing with it.

Without the usual fanfare, Arie dove right in and delivered the shot to the left side of my butt. Where the whole experience departed though was in the pain. Previously, I've not actually felt the needle. Arie however, had never given a shot before and moved just slow enough that it pinched. He definitely learned his lesson.

I'd like to give a nod to two people who helped him tremendously: my sister and my 17.5 month-old son. Because Arie was uncertain where to stick the needle, my sister grabbed a black Sharpie marker from the side of the refrigerator and drew a large circle on each side of my butt! I said, "Did you just draw on my butt with a Sharpie?" "Yes," she said. I'll spare you the photo she took afterward to show me. Our little boy, whom I affectionately call Bubba was even more helpful. After Arie pulled the needle out and began to rub my butt so as not to leave a knot, Bubba walked in the kitchen and reached up to help Daddy rub it in. He's such a big helper! :)

A Funny Thing Happened On the Way to Getting Pregnant: Our IVF Experience

Today was the day my sister and brother-in-law have been waiting for a long time. As I laid in bed this morning I began to ponder what the appropriate outfit is to wear on the occasion of becoming a surrogate for your sister, using her eggs and her husband's sperm. It's not like I needed to don lingerie (though I didn't honestly think of that one until we were nearly to the clinic). I started to wear jeans and a long-sleeve t-shirt, then thought better of it. That would have been way too casual. I eventually opted for slimming black jeans and a pinkish cashmere sweater. Someday these things might matter. LOL

When I finished dressing myself, I reached for the card I'd bought Val. A week ago I'd visited Hallmark looking for the perfect card that says "I'm ready to loan you my body for nine months - and I'm actually happy about it." Not surprisingly, it doesn't appear there are cards that fit that category. Pouring through the store, I finally found the one. It was yellow with some black writing on the front that says, "NICE." The inside sports the words, "Way to go!" The whole thing is accompanied by the song Whomp!(There it is!) by a group named Tag Team. Something about it seemed right as I was busting a gut in the middle of the store. The only real problem was I couldn't decide whether to give the card to Val or to Aaron. Of course I knew I would have to come up with my own version of a Hallmark mushy card to say all the other heartfelt things I wanted to say. So I stood in my bathroom and wrote a letter to my little sister. I think I effectively conveyed how much I love her.

Looking in the mirror I realized that I needed to accessorize my sweater. I reached for a necklace that was given to me by a close friend as I left Japan. It's two silver circles resting on top of one another holding a single pearl in the lower curve. I stared at it thinking how much it looked like an egg in a womb. Perfect! My friend Tomoko would be so pleased to know I wore it today. I threw on my pearl earrings and the ensemble was complete. It's been a long time since I thought that hard about what to wear. I'm really not that into my clothes. My life is pretty simple and doesn't normally call for special wardrobe consideration. Today was just...well, different.

Val, Aaron, and I paused for a short time in the kitchen to take some photos before she and I headed out the door. We wanted to document the occasion. Whether we become pregnant or not, it was still a momentous day.

On our long drive we joked about it being a covert operation. I could imagine her talking into her wrist like the Secret Service saying, "The package is delivered." I told her I suddenly felt like I was in protective custody. In essence I guess that was true. Had we recorded the conversation, we would have a great addition to a baby book. I wish I could recall all the details. The most important part is that we spent nearly an hour laughing together and having a good time. There were times she was actually laughing and crying at the same time, but that was partly due to the pain she was in.

Unfortunately, Val was uncomfortable during the whole drive, just as she has been since Tuesday. The stimulation of her ovaries left her with Ovarian Hyperstimulation Syndrome. It is a painful condition that can be quite serious. In fact, an ultrasound today revealed that her ovaries are so large they are rubbing against each other. It's called "kissing ovaries". Hopefully her symptoms will subside within a week from now. For now she's not very mobile and is moving very slowly. She has a positive attitude though and has been an inspiration through the whole IVF process. No matter what she's encountered she has done so with grace.



When we arrived at the Jones Institute, we were placed in a pre-op area and changed into our designated OR garb. We cracked out our cameras and took tons of photos of each other and the staff. It was a fun time even while we waited. The laughter continued right up to the moment they rolled me back into the OR.

After the nurses situated me on the table, Dr. Sergio Oehninger (our doctor) and the embryologist doctor both came in. Within a few moments the embryologist walked out and flashed the eggs, as viewed through a microscope, up onto a large screen. We had less than a minute to admire them, during which Val took a nice photo.



The doctor walked back in shortly afterward and with movements as careful as if he were disarming a bomb, he handed the pipette to Dr. O. who then threaded the pipette through my cervix as we watched on the ultrasound screen. I could see the white line of the long tube moving up into my uterus. Suddenly there was a puff that shot out the end of the tube and Dr. O said something like, "There they go." The entire procedure lasted roughly two minutes or less.

Dr. O stepped out and came back in carrying a certificate for Valerie, as well as the petri dish that held the eggs. He gave it to her saying, "This is their first cradle." It was pretty neat and of course brought a smile to Val's face. Once I was transferred to another bed, they rolled me out. Valerie was walking behind me when a nurse named Donna said something to her that stopped me mentally in my tracks. She turned to look at Val and said, "Come on, Mom." I said, "Wow, Val. I think that's the first time you've ever been called Mom." We were both tickled. Suddenly I think she felt pregnant. I know I did a little. That was a memorable moment for her.

As usual, we were barely in the post-op area when my phone rang and it was Mom calling to see how things were going. Her timing is always spot on! She definitely has a sixth sense about her when it comes to her kids. We told her we were done and she shared a funny story. Apparently she had just spoken with an older lady and told her she was a grandmother again today. They lady asked the obvious next question, "Was it a boy or a girl?," to which Mom replied, "We don't know yet - they were just implanted." LOL Imagine the confusion on that woman's face. I'm sure Mom went on to explain.

I think our family became a little more like glue today. We spoke with Mom, Dad, and our brother Ross. They were all so excited. It's great to feel their hopeful anticipation. It's amazing to think that in 11 days we may have another family member or members on the way. We all can't wait!

Progesterone Panic!

I tend to think of myself as a pretty strong person. I've held strong to Philippians 4:13 which says, "I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me." Therefore my strength is not my own. Tonight however, all that seemed to leave me. Let me recount the story . . .

We were running late for our Boy Scout meeting after going to the gym for a run and a swim. I bolted through the door and began running around like a crazy woman to prepare dinner - baked salmon. All was going well when I turned and saw a frightening sight - the syringe and vial of progesterone. I began having a fist fight with the air in front of me, looking quite like a schizophrenic person. My sister was concerned and asked in an alarmed voice, "What's wrong?" I told her, "You have to give me the stupid shot! I have to have it before I leave for Boy Scouts." To say I was slightly freaking out was probably an understatement.

I grabbed the syringe, prepped it, and set it on the counter. Val said she needed a minute to prepare herself. She's given lots of shots, but never to someone she cared about. I think she was feeling guilty about inflicting pain on me. Meanwhile, I was trying to keep moving making dinner, but getting more anxious by the second. When she was finally ready, I had Ritz cracker crumbs all over my hands and they began to tremble. I didn't cry, but I felt a surge of panic and thought I might hyperventilate. I washed the crackers off my hands and grabbed the counter as best I could. She pulled down the waistband of my running shorts and rubbed the alcohol on the upper part of my butt toward my hip. At first, she began to pat firmly on the skin. It felt like it was taking forever and I was getting more panicked and light-headed. I said, "Hit it harder!" She hauled off and smacked me hard on the butt and plunged the needle in. It was great! My butt was still stinging from her hand (which might have left a welt for all I know) so much that I didn't even feel the needle. Talk about a relief. I think over time this is going to get much easier. Now I just have to pep talk my husband into giving me the shot. He's a little apprehensive.

After the shot, we were joking about the whole thing. It really is ridiculous how anxious I get. I just can't stave off my healthy respect for needles. So much for having strength for all things. Thank God for sisters who are willing to stab you in the butt when the situation calls for it. I guess I'd still rather be stabbed in the butt than in the back. LOL

Does a Progesterone Shot Count as Nutrition?

The reproductive clinic called today and said my progesterone levels are too low. Since I'm going in on Friday to implant the eggs, they need my levels to come up. They said I'll have to give myself shots of progesterone suspended in oil. I nearly went into an anxiety attack thinking about having to stick myself with more needles. I was on the phone crying with the nurse. I wound up having to drive an hour back to the clinic to pick up the medicine and syringes from the pharmacy at the adjacent hospital.

I stood at the pharmacist's window and stared at one of the syringes. I even turned around and showed it to the lady behind me and said, "Do you see this?" She said she's not sure if she could give herself that shot and she's a nurse! The needle was so big to my eyes! I began to feel faint just thinking about having to stab myself in the butt with it! Thankfully, my nurse offered to give me my first shot. I've done the shots in my stomach in preparation for the pregnancy, but those were butterfly needles and fairly easy to do. Seriously doubting my ability to give myself this shot, I decided to head back to the clinic. When Beth, my nurse, came out to get me she hugged me and said she was sorry. I felt comforted.

We stood in a patient room discussing how the medicine is suspended in sesame oil. I started to cry and overheat when she was talking to me about how to give myself the shot. I blurted out that we had to shut the door so I could pull off my clothes. As the door shut, I was already throwing off my baseball cap, exposing my seriously flat hair. Then I yanked off my shirt and was beginning to sweat. Turning around to the bed, I stepped between the stirrups that were protruding from the end. I pulled down the waist of my pants, grabbed the sides of the bed, and began to cry. I said, "Let's just get it over with." She stabbed that needle into my butt like a dart. It didn't hurt at all! I was obviously relieved and began to relax somewhat. Then something strange happened. Right after she stuck me, I found myself wondering if I would need to log the calories from the sesame oil and how I would do that. How many calories are in 1 cc of sesame oil anyway? I couldn't believe I was having that thought! Man, talk about being dedicated to my nutrition! I mean who does that? LOL