Stim day 7 - nightly countdown to 9 pm

It's really strange to suddenly have this nightly 9 p.m. stim commitment. I generally dislike structure and schedule; always have. Perhaps because this is the only contribution I can make to the IVF process, I don't mind it as much.

I'm generally absent-minded, but prefer to think of myself as "hyper-focused" on the things that matter, and just not caring as deeply about all the other minor details of life. My attention is fully focused on this IVF process now, and I catch myself subtly counting down to 9 pm all day long.

The whole IVF experience is so unreal, so violating, so inhumane, so excruciatingly emotional, that I think it's my way of beginning to process it all, not letting a moment slip by that I'm not realizing that I'm in this NOW. For good. For better or for worse. No turning back, no regrets about having tried, whatever the outcome.

Last night - stim day 6 - was the 2nd evening in a row that dh gave me the injections. Not because I'm squeamish (I actually prefer to do them myself - control freak), but because I need to force myself to let go sometimes.

Of course, while I was busy setting up the "crack house" as invitroveritas so aptly and hilariously described it, hubby hurriedly attached the Gonal-F needle without swabbing the rubber tip with alcohol. Surprisingly, I didn't freak out with a hormone-induced hissyfit. I calmly asked him if he had swabbed it, and he said he forgot. So, I said, "It's okay, let's remove the needle, swab the top and attach a new needle." Not that it would help much, but it made me feel better. He recapped the needle and tried to pull it off rather masculine-ly, instead of gently turning it clockwise to unscrew it from the pen. I was busy loading the Lupron injection when he started futzing with the Gonal-F pen, so I put the uncapped Lupron shot down.

I hadn't realized he accidentally bent the Gonal-F pen needle and it was now sticking through the safety cap at an angle. When I asked him to slowly hand me the pen so I could show him how to remove the needle, the thing bit me through the cap as I was unscrewing it - badly. Ugh. Now I'm bleeding, and we haven't even started the evening's shots yet.

So we get a Band-Aid, take a deep breath, and start over.

Then he points to the uncapped Lupron injection, and says, as he's reaching out to pick it up, "This is unsafe." Wtf.

I'm real proud of myself for not turning into Lupronzilla right then. That's unsafe? Ya think? How about you NOT swabbing the effin' Gonal pen, bending the effin' needle because you were struggling with it so violently instead of just asking for help, and then sticking.me.with.it. That's not unsafe? I could have jabbed him with it. But I didn't. I bit my tongue, smiled, and said, let's do the Lupron first.

It was one quiet victory in a sea of unsuccessful attempts to contain my raving lunatic lupron rage. Progress. Everything went smoothly and lovingly from there on out. Afterwards, I snuggled next to him on the sofa. Today he made lunch. We're all good.