Cold Feet, More Needles, and the Idea of Eleven

A few days ago I went to my first appointment with my new acupuncturist, and was contemplating the number of needles to which I am willing to subject myself to have a genetically-linked child. If I had a more mathematical bent, I might actually try to estimate this, but instead, I like to think of it as the overwhelming number it is, like stars in the sky or plankton in the ocean. Actually estimating the number might make it seem less overwhelming for some people, but I prefer to simply forget about the needles until just before I have to deal with them. This must be why I forgot about the number of blood draws there are for IVF. I forgot that the skin on the inside of my elbow starts to form a little scar on the phlebotomist's favorite spot.

I have been giving myself shots of Lupron for two weeks now, and I am scheduled to begin the follicle-stimulating drugs tomorrow, so I had the pleasure of going to the doctor to have my ultrasound and bloodwork.

Today was only my second blood draw of this cycle, and I have a lot more to come. I find it comforting that the phlebotomist is friendly, and named Rihanna, and admits to being afraid of all needles that do not leave a ink or a piercing behind when inflicted on her. I also appreciate that she remembers to use a butterfly for the blood draw, because no matter what phlebotomists say, the butterfly method is less painful and results in bruising less often.

After the blood draw, I went into an examination room, where I undressed from the waist down while my husband sang what he says is the music one find in porn. This, as you can imagine, made me feel very sexy, particularly as I left on my socks on, climbed on to a very erotic examination table and covered what the truly educated term the vajayjay with a square of paper.

And to be honest, I considered getting off the exam table and putting my Ugg boots on over the socks, because my new acupuncturist reminded me that cold feet are very bad for fertility, particularly for someone like myself, with a cold nature and too much dampness in my system. My acupuncturist in California said this meant I needed to wear socks constantly, and that was California, where it is temperate and dry most of the time, and the question is, if I just had to wear socks before, what will it take to stay warm, dry, and fertile in Oregon?

Before I could act on this idea, the doctor came in and the three of us had a conversation about various parts of the protocol while I modestly crossed my legs. Now, dear reader, if you have not been through fertility treatment you may find this a little strange. Let me put your mind at ease At this point, so many medical professionals have had a look at my vajayjay, I didn't even think about the square of paper until the doctor moved to the side of the room so as to better address both me and my husband, and I realized that my backside was fully exposed, because I was wearing a sweater and a square of paper, and not a robe, or some other garment. Anyway, I chose to let this issue go, because what with the infertility, and the death of my father, and the fact that my mother is now staying with us and my in-laws are visiting, and the chemical menopause symptoms of persistent headaches and weepiness, the indignity of a bare backside is really not worth my time.

After we had our conversation we went on to the real reason for the doctor's appearance: the ultrasound. (This is the thing that Erin's doctors should have been doing to monitor her during all her IUIs.) This is how today's ultrasound went: The doctor pushed a special ultrasound probe up the aforementioned vajayjay and the three of us took a good look at the ultrasound image of my ovaries and the associated follicles. No ovarian cysts, which is good. And eleven developing follicles on each ovary. "You seem," said the doctor, "like a woman committed to the idea of eleven."

This afternoon, I got a call from the nurse saying my bloodwork showed a level of estradiol of 38, which means I'm ready to decrease my Lupron for today and start my follicle-stimulating shots tomorrow. Next appointment: November 11.