The appointment went well this morning. I got probed again and we got to see yet another picture of my uterus. They took more blood to test my thyroid and to make sure I'm not lying about having been vaccinated for measles. I peed in a cup to prove I'm not already pregnant. They gave us a lesson on injecting the Follistim, which job will be Brian's since I've never injected drugs before. He seemed a little too excited about the prospects but we'll see how well he does when it comes time for it on Friday night. He requested the biggest needle they had which made everyone laugh but me. By the way, have you ever had blood drawn from the back of your hand instead of your arm? Hurts like a bitch. But I guess my veins decided to be shy today, unlike my ovaries who showed up proudly, just waiting for the opportunity to finally do the job they were put on this earth for. It's about freaking time.
I planned to take the easy way out to finish up on the quitting smoking and had had the doctor call in a drug called Chantex for me a couple of weeks ago. I figured between the major cutting back I've already done and that, things would go fairly smoothly. Until I found out this afternoon my insurance doesn't cover it. And that without insurance the cost would be $145. Do YOU have an extra $145 hanging around, because I sure as shit don't. I can't go back on Wellbutrin either, because it's not a pregnancy safe drug, so guess who's about to kick it old school and go hardcore cold turkey? This time tomorrow I predict raving lunacy.
But seriously. This week is all about taking really expensive drugs to try to grow egg follicles. The nurse told us today the optimal number they're looking for is three to five of them. Any less and things get postponed a little while longer. Any more, and we have to make a decision on what to do with the extras. We are looking for three to five, so keep that number in your head and will it into being, could ya? But while I'm attempting to grow three to five nice healthy egg holders, why the fuck would I do something as stupid as smoking and jeopardize that? I'm dumb enough to have started smoking to begin with, but I'm not THAT dumb. So every time I think I'm losing my mind with a craving, I plan on visualizing those three to five innocent little follicles trying to grow nice and long for me. Cigarettes vs. healthy baby = no comparison. I realize plenty of people have smoked yet had healthy (?) babies. Courtney fucking Love had a healthy baby and bitch shot heroin while she was pregnant (you can still read the Vanity Fair article that she tried to sue over and lost). Luckily I am not Courtney Love, nor am I someone who could live with herself if I did something that could potentially harm one little fingernail on my potential child.
I've waited a long time for this. I will do everything in my power to make it happen.
Now - does anyone have a piece of gum they can spare? Or a few (hundred) packs?