A few years ago, an evening of shots meant a line up of tequila, Jack and Jim. Sorry for partying 😉 Not so much these days. During IVF our nightly shots are a bit more, shall we say tame?
At 8:30 every night, Gabe and I head upstairs to administer my Menopur and Follistim shots. It’s kinda like going to a bar. He lines ’em up and I knock ’em back…figuratively of course. Sure, I used to get a little woozy with the idea of giving myself shots, but the needles don’t bother me anymore. After three rounds of IVF, I am so used to being poked and prodded, that two small pricks to my belly don’t faze me. In a weird way, it actually makes me feel good. As I pull back the syringe and then see the medicine drain under my skin, I visualize my follicles changing. I picture them growing bigger and stronger by the second. Grow follies grow! Yes, I do speak to my follicles these day. Tomorrow we’ll get a progress report on those follies and see how they’ve been doing after a week’s worth of shots.
On the bright side, these shots don’t leave ya with a hangover.