I was talking with Scott last night over dinner about my near panic attack at the idea of starting the IVF cycle. He thought for a moment I was panicked about suddenly having another human to care for but I explained that didn't freak me out in the slightest. I know that it will, when the times comes, but right now that's so far from my mind. What I'm panicked about is the stupid needles, the crazy mood swings, ovaries becoming the size of golf balls (which seems small, but apparently makes you feel like none of your pants fit), and imminent weight gain. Oh and of course that whole "it might not work" thing.
I figure I have about four or five weeks to get myself prepared for this. That seems like a long time in the grand scheme of things, but I know how fast that's going to go by.
I don't know how one really prepares for this. The inflicting self with meds is not easy. It goes against that human insticnt not to hurt yourself. It's got to be mind over matter at that point, but I still don't know how I'll be able to do it. I can't even pull a band-aid off quickly! Scott will not be able to help me at all. He and needles don't go together. Scott's sister, a nurse has volunteered to help. I don't know if she's wanting to help or just likes the idea of infliciting pain. God love her but I suspect it might be the latter (I'm sure she wants to help too, but I know she enjoys sticking people).
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