Trigger Time!

What a difference a day makes! Today was the last day of school, and at my morning monitoring appointment (4^th day in a row with my doc, a new record! He’s going on vacation so he’s been covering other shifts) I was deemed ready to go. I sent my carpool friend to school without me so I could do all the pre-op instructions. It’s pages and pages of do’s and don’ts for the next few days and 2 weeks. No more morning or evening stim shots! Tomorrow I take an antibiotic to keep me safe when they do the ER, and then I start all the other post ER meds to make my body a nice home for the embryos. Then we wait, and hope they stick.

The most stressful thing about today was the trigger shot. They drew a target on my butt (really more my hip) for my husband to aim at. They gave us a time (10pm ON THE DOT !) and I was worried sick about it all day. My darling hubby sent me a countdown email “Just 11 more hours til I jab that GIANT needle into you! How exciting!” and in the evening, I practiced mixing with leftover saline from the stim shots because it’s mixed slightly differently than the stim medication. Plus, you have to use it fairly quickly after it is mixed so that it doesn’t separate and we had to time it so precisely! I poked the practice needle AND IT WASN’T EVEN SHARP. I’m sorry, but if you can poke the needle without pain, that’s just wrong. As I got more and more nervous, my husband did admit that he knew it was going to hurt, but that hopefully in 9 months I’ll be WISHING for pain as puny as a trigger shot. He’s pretty good at that perspective thing, I guess. J All I could think of all day was the “quick, dart like motion” we learned in injection class. (Think stabbing!) When it was time, I mixed it, switched to the injection needle (which was still honking big, but at least it was sharp(er) because it wasn’t used for mixing. Then, I laid face down on the couch, thinking that would eliminate all usage of that muscle and make it relaxed. I even bit down on the blanket, because I didn’t want to yell and make my hubby feel bad. So he sat down on the couch next to me, and I told him not to count, just to do it. I felt something, like the needle against my skin, and then nothing. So I stopped biting down on the blanket and asked if he did it, and it was already out. I was so excited! All that stress for nothing. I’m a wimp, but I am very aware of my wimp-ness. He did admit that once it was actually time to do it, he hesitated and was more nervous than he thought he’d be, but we both survived and passed with flying colors. We may have even high-fived. And then had ice cream. J