Today was a big morning. Hubby spanked. I sobbed. Donor laid back while 20 EGGS (!!!!!!!!) were successfully retrieved....It's one p.m. and I am exhausted.
Hubby is hysterically funny when he's nervous. And his laugh is infectious. So the early part of the morning (his part) went swimmingly. (har har) I thought I was fine until I peeked over on the counter and saw the implements needed to add a (purple, it seems) stitch to my secret spot. (not a cerlage. This actually functions as a handle so that my cervix can be pulled into a straight line during the day of transfer, so there is no navigating tight corners in there when live embies are on board. Imagine if you will, my uterus as marionette...)
So, yeah, I saw the needles and boom. Started as a whimper. Soon developed into a full blown sob. Snot and everything. Poor Nurse, who had just left us as we were laughing and making inappropriate jokes, walked in to find me a wreck.
I calmed myself. Doc came in. Was great. Walked me through the process. Was as gentle as she could be. And like the PIO shots (which we gave a little too close to the sciatic nerve for Nurse's comfort. Oops. Sorry) everything turned out ok. Not a walk in the park, but ok. Damn those needles. It's the thought of them, not the actual act that gets me in knots.
We're home now. We're fine. Just shared the news with my co-worker. And here's another reason why she is the best co-worker in the world. She called me a toughie. I denied it. I cried.
So what? That doesn’t' mean you're not tough. :) I cried thinking about my first BM after I crapped [my daughter] out. but I was still tough when I had to do the deed. Hahahaaa. That is so gross.I hope you are laughing. Because I still am. Love that girl.