When I first researched IVF, before it was even a choice for us, I balled. The idea of injecting myself, daily, was scary. But when it became our only choice.... I don't know how to explain it, except to say that survivor mode kicked in. There were no thoughts about not being able to do it, I just plowed ahead booking flights, finding a room and gathering 'stuff' I'd need for my month away from home.
We chose our clinic for three reasons. We were comfortable with their success rates, they were privately run (not government) and it was in a city I'd like to spend a whole month of my life in.
We lucked out and found a great deal on Vacation Rentals by Owner and got a basement suite in a brand new home for $50/night.
There was no looking back, no looking around, everything moved in a forward motion.... until I got there. :)
The morning after I arrived I had my first blood/ultrasound appointment, at 7:30am. Blood seemed to go fine, but the ultrasound turned up a cyst, which meant that the birth control/supressents I'd been on might not have worked.
I was sent away to wait for my blood test results to come in.... if they were normal I got to stay and proceed, but if they showed a rise in estrogen, I'd be sent home and asked to start over.... needless to say, I had a choice to make... I felt defeat, worry, nerves creeping into the picture. I felt my brain take a break from all the planning I had been doing. There was no point in running the errands I'd planed, getting groceries, etc.... was there? It didn't take long to over ride the negativity... of course I was gonna run my errands, I was gonna get groceries... I wasn't going home. I was getting IVF and I was gettin' me a baby or two!
Back in my room, fresh from the taxi, putting away the groceries my cell phone rang and the clinic gave me the good news. I could go back in and get the drugs required for treatment, the blood test came back fine!
The first hurdle had been cleared. Next hurdle, the first needle....
