Friday, April 25, 2008

Follies on the brain

I had a sleepless night Tuesday, just counting the days until today's follicle and bloodwork check. Recovered with a great sleep Wednesday (partly because the acupuncturist gave me a special sleep needle, mostly because I was exhausted). Then I had a freakishly great day on Thursday: Highly productive at work; lots of energy; positive attitude; loving feelings toward all humankind; thinking it didn't matter how things went with the cycle because I was just so damn lucky to be alive and should be grateful to even have this experience. (WTH on that last part! Must be the drugs.)

Last night (still Thursday), I fell asleep fine, but then I awoke at 3:00 (stupid Friday) and resorted to counting the minutes until my 8:30 appointment. I lay there just tuning in to my ovarian sensations and trying to cheer on the 11 follies counted last week. "Come on, my pretties. All together, now, grow, follies, GROW!"

I tried visualizing them, but I didn't really like the true-to-life image. Sometimes I'm just better with the figurative, so after a bit of psychedelic drifting, er, clever word association, I began thinking of the perfectly symmetrical and synched-up chorus lines from old-time stage follies. I want my follies to behave like those pins, all crazy-in-step and full of vim. And you know, from the prominent, buzzy twinge-y feelings I have on both sides, I think they are.

The appointment went well from the "poor responder" POV. All 11 are still there, with 7 currently out in front, of fairly uniform size (10–12 mm), and on track for maturity by ER in another 6 or 7 days. The 4 lagging behind (6.5–8 mm) are close enough to surprise (yay) or drop off completely (boo, whatever). My lining looks good. Didn't write down the individual follie sizes/placements or ask about the E2 number because I'm leaving some details alone. I don't need to do the math, nor can I do anything to affect it.

The rest of the day? It sorta stunk: Spent my acupuncture session resenting the 4 hours out of this day I spent at/getting to and from the clinic; spent WAY too much time in the pm dealing with all things IVF (new appt schedules, meds reorders, trying to guess the ER date for an anxious DH); totally ignored my sister's perfectly well-intentioned phone message asking for an update — I felt inexplicably annoyed to get it; got very little quality work done; and wore a frownie face, mostly, while walking my just-happy-to-be-outside-and-sniffing dog in gorgeous weather at a picturesque state park.

"Must be the drugs again," I told myself tonight. I'm sure they're playing a part. But really, I know that even though I was indeed happy about today's monitoring appointment, deep down all I've been doing since is wondering if there's anything even in them thar follies.

We'll see soon enough.

1 comment:

sweetpeapod said...

I can totally relate to your stinky part of the day; not today, but I've definitely had days just like that in the not too distant past. ~grin~ It's funny, because I never seem connect my bad days with the meds (as I'm sure I should), unless it's a headache, then I know what's the cause. When I see your post, though, it seems so obvious. I guess I find it easier to recognize it in others than in myself. Hope you felt better soon. xxx