The Depot Lupron Story
I don't feel any different.
It hasn't even been 24 hours, I know, but so far, so good. Granted I think I had three hot flashes between the doctor and this morning, but even before we had the shot, I was already having some "sweats." One of last night's flashes started when the cashier read me the total of our delightful Costco trip. There's nothing I love more than Costco; nothing I hate more than hearing the total.
But the story of the shot itself-- a whole different story. When we got there, Partner was given a little sheet of paper and asked to fill it out. For the CDC records. "How come I don't get one?" I moaned to receptionist. No one knew. I think it's because I am technically not undergoing IVF treatment, Partner is. I am the term I loathe: the surrogate.
A nurse came to the door and called Partner's name. "Me too?" I piped up. The nurse looked at me blankly and I looked at her blankly. Who was this woman? Where was my nurse?? Then I remembered-- It was Wednesday and not a day where Dr BusyBusyBusy is in the office. I totally forgot about this, and so did Partner. The receptionist stepped in and handed my chart to the nurse. She tried to explain, "They go together."
Unfortunately the nurse did not get this.
She took us into a very small room and glanced down at the charts. "Why don't you two tell me what I am doing here today for you?" This is the point where I could feel my body start shaking. I kept telling myself not to cry and scream. Instead I said, "Well, we are kinda of hoping that since you guys are the experts and we've never done this before, you tell us what we're doing."
She looked taken aback. And then she did the thing that has been happening to us non-stop, she called Partner my name. "No," I said in very measured tones, "I'm Katie." I proceeded to give her the short version: "We're taking Partner's eggs and implanting them in me."
Her mouth rounded into an O. "Let's go into a different room," she suggested, "one where we can spread out." Since I felt I was being suffocated in the tiny closet room we were in, I readily agreed. The new nurse looked at our charts for a few minutes. "We usually put the two charts together," she tried to explain, "in a situation like this." I nodded, but really! Our charts don't go together because we are TWO different people. Arg.
We had all our drugs because we thought we were learning how to do shots. We weren't. Really we were only there to pull down our pants and get jabbed. I made her explain why we only got one shot of Lupron when other people I know were doing Lupron shots every couple of days. (Different type of Lupron-- we're on the Depot-Lupron, which apparently lasts a month. Super.) When it came time for the shot, I popped right up and threw down my pants. (I'm easy like that.) Partner got ghastly white. "Are you alright?" I said as I mooned her.
"I can't watch." (Seriously? You look at my bare ass every day?)
Meanwhile I did everything I could to crane my neck and see exactly what was happening. I have to tell you-- I didn't feel a thing. I couldn't believe I had gotten the shot. It didn't hurt? At all? Oh, the advantages of having a fleshy ass and hips. I got one over on the skinny girls there!
Partner almost passed out during her shot. She only got half a dose of the Depot-Lupron, and I got the entire vial! I was, of course, right there with my face at her ass watching the whole thing. Man! The nurse, she really jabs it right in. I bet she's good at darts.
When we left, I was euphoric. Partner said, "Let's just go home and sit for a minute before going to Costco." At the house she beelined for the couch, whereupon she cried and cried and had a little anxiety attack. I think it's because I process so much of this shit on here, and she hardly talks about it at all. We also figured out she doesn't like the needles. We always knew I'd be giving her the shots, but now she thinks she'll need to be prone on the bed when we do it, in case, as she says, "I pass out." (You are not going to pass out, I told her. But oh well, we can do it that way.) I may have to figure out how to give myself the progesterone shots when the time comes because I don't think she's going to be able to do it. And if it all works (fingers crossed) those progesterone shots keep coming until week 12. That's a lot of damn shots. If Partner could get over it, then it would be like immersion therapy. (Which sounds crappy to me, because I am terrified of spiders and I certainly don't want anyone throwing them at me until I get over my fear. Shit. It's giving me the heebie-jeebies right now.)
So, there's the story. I still feel good, slept great and just can't wait to keep moving forward.
It hasn't even been 24 hours, I know, but so far, so good. Granted I think I had three hot flashes between the doctor and this morning, but even before we had the shot, I was already having some "sweats." One of last night's flashes started when the cashier read me the total of our delightful Costco trip. There's nothing I love more than Costco; nothing I hate more than hearing the total.
But the story of the shot itself-- a whole different story. When we got there, Partner was given a little sheet of paper and asked to fill it out. For the CDC records. "How come I don't get one?" I moaned to receptionist. No one knew. I think it's because I am technically not undergoing IVF treatment, Partner is. I am the term I loathe: the surrogate.
A nurse came to the door and called Partner's name. "Me too?" I piped up. The nurse looked at me blankly and I looked at her blankly. Who was this woman? Where was my nurse?? Then I remembered-- It was Wednesday and not a day where Dr BusyBusyBusy is in the office. I totally forgot about this, and so did Partner. The receptionist stepped in and handed my chart to the nurse. She tried to explain, "They go together."
Unfortunately the nurse did not get this.
She took us into a very small room and glanced down at the charts. "Why don't you two tell me what I am doing here today for you?" This is the point where I could feel my body start shaking. I kept telling myself not to cry and scream. Instead I said, "Well, we are kinda of hoping that since you guys are the experts and we've never done this before, you tell us what we're doing."
She looked taken aback. And then she did the thing that has been happening to us non-stop, she called Partner my name. "No," I said in very measured tones, "I'm Katie." I proceeded to give her the short version: "We're taking Partner's eggs and implanting them in me."
Her mouth rounded into an O. "Let's go into a different room," she suggested, "one where we can spread out." Since I felt I was being suffocated in the tiny closet room we were in, I readily agreed. The new nurse looked at our charts for a few minutes. "We usually put the two charts together," she tried to explain, "in a situation like this." I nodded, but really! Our charts don't go together because we are TWO different people. Arg.
We had all our drugs because we thought we were learning how to do shots. We weren't. Really we were only there to pull down our pants and get jabbed. I made her explain why we only got one shot of Lupron when other people I know were doing Lupron shots every couple of days. (Different type of Lupron-- we're on the Depot-Lupron, which apparently lasts a month. Super.) When it came time for the shot, I popped right up and threw down my pants. (I'm easy like that.) Partner got ghastly white. "Are you alright?" I said as I mooned her.
"I can't watch." (Seriously? You look at my bare ass every day?)
Meanwhile I did everything I could to crane my neck and see exactly what was happening. I have to tell you-- I didn't feel a thing. I couldn't believe I had gotten the shot. It didn't hurt? At all? Oh, the advantages of having a fleshy ass and hips. I got one over on the skinny girls there!
Partner almost passed out during her shot. She only got half a dose of the Depot-Lupron, and I got the entire vial! I was, of course, right there with my face at her ass watching the whole thing. Man! The nurse, she really jabs it right in. I bet she's good at darts.
When we left, I was euphoric. Partner said, "Let's just go home and sit for a minute before going to Costco." At the house she beelined for the couch, whereupon she cried and cried and had a little anxiety attack. I think it's because I process so much of this shit on here, and she hardly talks about it at all. We also figured out she doesn't like the needles. We always knew I'd be giving her the shots, but now she thinks she'll need to be prone on the bed when we do it, in case, as she says, "I pass out." (You are not going to pass out, I told her. But oh well, we can do it that way.) I may have to figure out how to give myself the progesterone shots when the time comes because I don't think she's going to be able to do it. And if it all works (fingers crossed) those progesterone shots keep coming until week 12. That's a lot of damn shots. If Partner could get over it, then it would be like immersion therapy. (Which sounds crappy to me, because I am terrified of spiders and I certainly don't want anyone throwing them at me until I get over my fear. Shit. It's giving me the heebie-jeebies right now.)
So, there's the story. I still feel good, slept great and just can't wait to keep moving forward.
posted by Katie at 1:19 PM
7 Comments:
"They go together."
Where I'm from, we call people like that lesbians, and they usually get substandard fertility care from people who haven't grown accustomed to the fact that lesbians reproduce from time to time.
Who, me? Bitter?
She could very well pass out. Cait came very, very close the first time I had to give her a shot, and has gotten close a few times when I have had to change the dressing on her IV. It's no fun for either of us, so I think Partner's suggestion to be lying down is FANTASTIC. Make it easier on both of you to the full extent possible.
You can give yourself the PIO shots. It's not fun but google "Julie PIO tricks" to get some really good tips. And for both of your sakes, practice with an orange. Really. It helps.
Good for you, Katie! Glad things are moving along. I know how unsettling it is to deal with a new nurse type person who doesn't know your story. Not confidence inspiring. About shots: Kathy had to give me Lovenox shots in my belly whenever I needed an anticoagulant but couldn't use my regular Coumadin pills. She always felt she was hurting me (and keep in mind she's a nurse herself!). Finally, I learned to stick myself and it worked fine. The needles were so thin it never hurt. It's more the idea of the needle than anything else that really gets to you.
I'm so glad you're feeling well! Hope partner is feeling better now.
i had to stand up and look all around me because I thought something was crawling on me after just reading the word spider.
I have to admit that I could very possibly make some of the same mistakes the nurses and so many others have, quite simply because this is my first time being exposed to lesbians trying to get pregnant. My awareness has increased greatly, but because it's new I may not know all of the ins and outs. I'm just glad that I can use the blog world to help in coming to a greater understanding and sensitivity. I hate the idea of offending someone just because I don’t understand.
I had my first pre-conception Dr's appointment today and freaked a bit too. It feels really concrete now and it was only a pap smear and check up!
Well, at least the nurse didn't say to you "Are you the mother?" and make you feel all good until you realize that what she meant was "Are you Partner's mother?" Which happened to me a few times during our preconception and then pregnancy journey.
That's tough that partner has a thing about needles. At the risk of sounding insensitive, that's a(I'm sure the only) plus to her not gestating -- because for some reason doctors mistake pregnant women for pincushions on a regular basis and it sounds like this process is involving enough needles as it is...
Not that a baby isn't worth it (as I'm sure she'd agree) because though I have the same spider thing as you, I would willingly endure being rained on by spiders if that's what it had taken.
I have had sh*t treatment from my clinic just recently too. I feel like yelling at them, but then I feel like my future is in their hands, so best not...
I had routine blood tests, but no scans, for so long that I was sure they would cancel the cycle. Instead they wait until 3.00 one day to call me and say 'your conditions aren't ideal, but in the adsence of your doctor, who never got back to us, we think you can go ahead this cycle, so could you get in here in the next half hour for your trigger injection."
Great - what if I hadn't been at work - as it was I didnt' have the car that day.
Andthe doctor not being available was bizarre - what am I paying them for.... And why did this end up being so last minute?
And worst of all, why send me into this cycle with the news that conditions are borderline - so much for positive thinking.
Excuse the rant - but I can totally identify with feeling like the clinic is not taking much notice of our individual situations.
good luck
seepi
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