So after a seemingly never-ending round of BCP’s, September 18th finally rolled around. And it was over with in a heartbeat.
I went in. Spoke to the nurse. She stabbed me in the stomach and charged me R900 for more of the same! I was feeling a bit weird after the first Lucrin shot, and got this disgustingly bitter taste in my mouth, but other than that, nothing major. Today I actually felt fantastic… until about six o’clock. That’s when the headache set in, and it is here to stay.
So far I am feeling quite good, not exactly optimistic, but not entirely pessimistic, either. I am trying to keep positive, but very scared to let hope in the door. Yes, I have started daydreaming again… Picturing myself in the mirror, rubbing my swollen tummy… laying under the trees on a picnic blanky with “The Embryo That Could”. (Okay, that was a bit weird! But you get my meaning…) At the same time I realise how very dangerous this type of thinking can be. Damnit.
Also, I have been keeping up with my mandatory 50 gajillion litres of water per day, and I must tell you that my skin is definitely thanking me. My bladder is using abusive four lettered hate words. It is a good kick start on the whole “living more healthily” angle that I have ranted about in the recent past. Plus the nurse says it gives my ovaries a fighting chance. And I’m all for that!
I still have to post the obligatory show of needles, but I am too tired and headachey to lay them all out, so you may just get a photo of the bucket which they came in 🙂 Oh, all right, I’ll lay them out all fancy! Don’t beg! It’s actually not that impressive because I don’t have the Menopur shots yet, so this will be like a preview, really. (Watch this space)
From the not-so-secret Garden, that’s all I have to report right now. You know what they say: “No news is good news.”