The Chicken and the Egg

I won’t lie. I was pathetic. I was a real chicken.. buck buck buck. But damnit this chicken wants her egg.

I slept fine, in fact better than fine. My parents bought us some new bedsheets that hubby and I are in LOVE with; they actually gave us a better sleep! So even though I was well rested, my nerves started going first thing in the morning. We had an co-worker at my hubby’s office babysit for our son. So within 20 mins of her arriving, hubby and I were off to the clinic.

By the time I was sitting in the waiting room, my leg would not stop pumping, and my fist was taping the side of the chair. Meanwhile Mr. Cool as a Cucumber was working on his iPhone. I was getting annoyed (thanks to my nerves) and had to ask him to "stop working and try to be in the moment please”. Which he graciously accepted, but out came his iPad... that man is hooked I swear. At least he gave me tidbits of articles he was reading on GQ. He knew I needed distracting. And it helped somewhat. But after 15 minutes, I was ready to throw up. Finally, after 20 minutes a nurse introduced herself as Betty and took us to one of the conference rooms.

There sitting ominously on one of the chairs was her little red toolkit, or as I call it, her little box of horrors. Glass jars filled with g..d knows what, epi pens, needle disposing kits, alcohol swaps, and a whole mess of syringes and needles. She first gave us an overview of the process, with a booklet of pictures and such. Which was very helpful to my both of us, even if we have gone through this before. The fluctuating hormones of a woman during her cycle and how the IVF hormones are used can be a bit confusing, (I’m still not 100% sure), but we get the gist.

Then we started going over the calendar month of IVF and when I would take my hormones and the quantity yadda yadda... then she started toward the needles. My panic level was now elevated, I kept looking at my hubby to show him how freaked out I was, but he already knew that. The nurse somehow had on my file that I was afraid of needles, so it was no surprise to her. Fortunately, seems I am not the only person on this earth that has this fear. But at this point of the meeting, I am desperate to establish a way to have a “professional” do it in a clinic, and kept asking for this option. The nurse kept saying that this would be such an inconvenience for me, going there twice a day. She had no clue. I would drive to Seattle just to have someone other than myself or my hubby doing it. She and hubby agreed, and both said "why not try it for the first day or two and then maybe go to a clinic?”. SAY WHAT???? They clearly were not getting it, I don’t want to go that route!!!! I want to shake the dice, get a six and go straight to home!

So she starts opening the packaging around the syringe and showing the hubby how to take the top cover off, swab the tip of the glass bottle holding the liquid, then inserting the needle into the liquid, pulling the plunger down to fill the needle to the right level, making sure there are no air bubbles, etc etc. Then to my horror, they sat there with the needle in my hubby’s hand for all to see. My mind was freakin out!!! The needle point was staring at me like the worst part of a horror movie. You know when some crazed shrunken white face pops out onto the screen immediately followed by a blast of creepy screeching. You heart stops for a second, then the image disappears. Imagine having that moment just dangle there unending. That’s what I was feeling with that bloody needle sitting there less than a foot away.

Just when I thought I could not take it anymore, hubby practiced inserting it into a rubber cube. I swear he jammed that thing in too fast and too hard. He seemed quite pleased with himself. The nurse didn’t seem to think he needed correcting. The nurse then told me that I should hold the roll of fat around my tummy when my hubby inserts the needle.. NOW I AM FREAKING OUT.. I am NOT a willing participant, I want to know nothing, see nothing, hear nothing and absolutely DO nothing. I am this close to walking out the door. Tears are welling up in my eyes, as I tell her I cannot do that. My voice is breaking up, I got my half cry face going on, and my hubby knows I am at my breaking point. The nurse clearly had no idea how bad my phobia was. Hubby explained that his wife would prefer to be “passive” in this procedure. He told her I needed to look outside, watch a movie, talk to the wall.. ANYTHING not to know what the hell was going on down at my belly.

So she agreed that my fear had worked me into such a state, that I really needed just to feel it to know it was not as bad as I imagined. She was a nurse, so could she do it to me first. That I agreed to.. she was a professional in my opinion. So hubby got the iPad out, put on Pixar’s "The Birds” - their first Oscar for an animated short film. The clip had me in stitches when I first watched it, and it still amuses me. So slumped I was, not holding my roll of fat, I sat and watch the bloody birds, and....

Nothing! It was absolutely nothing. The tiniest prick, almost nothing at all! I was on a post fear high, and wanted to jump over and kiss her. Relief poured over me like a wave. I kept apologizing for my silliness about needles, after all I did already have a child (C-section thank you!) Now it was hubby’s turn..the iPad didn’t help this time, it was too close to his hands, so I talked nonsense while looking out the window. There was a pinch this time. I sucked in air. BUT, nothing that I would consider a big deal. Apparently, the nurse said he went in at a slight angle.

The appointment wound down pretty quick after that, with a few minutes on how the epi pen works, but the needle is even smaller on that, so I was not concerned. Because of my age (1 month away from my 42nd birthday) I have to take Estrogen for a week before we we start the process, so I have to get the prescription filled and I start tomorrow. But all we do now is call the day of my period, and the nurse will give the okay to start.

On my way home, I had to stop at a grocery store for milk and bread. I was on such a relieved high, I started to think, I should treat myself to some flowers or some decadent desert. I was like the good girl getting a lollipop at the doctors office. I realized how stupid I was for even thinking I deserved a treat, but I wanted to celebrate my little victory with a purchase! Wonder what Freud would think of all of that? or Pavlov perhaps?

Anyway, when I got home, I was thrilled my parents had came over early, hubby had to go to work and I needed to be distracted. My nerves were raw, relieved I was, but I take a long time to come down from that kind of fear. If I could have had hard liquor, I would have. Instead a cup of tea then two then three finally calmed this chicken.