TMI But I Have to Tinkle

I am not quite sure where I left off on my last post, and honestly I am too lazy to go and check (I am going to blame it on the hormones-from now on everything is because of the hormones).

By October 24th, the day of our egg retrieval, I felt a little like my ovaries may potentially explode and tinkling became extremely unpleasant. We were up to 2 shots a day and you can only imagine how excited I was about that. As excited as the hubs is when I tell him he has to make room in man cave for the triplets. We arrived for our retrieval/sperm aspiration at 9:30 and were taken in to a nice little room with a recliner where the hubs was told to change. The hubs was a nervous wreck. I am not good with pep talks-I'm a tough love kind of gal, but I did my best to distract the hubs by taking a bunch of horribly depressing pictures.The hubs was given his iv and wheeled out for his procedure. I patiently read my book in the recliner. Before I knew it the hubs was being wheeled back in saying....you guessed it..."I feel drunk right now". He has oddly forgotten that this occurred, but I have happily reminded him. The doctor informed me that they were indeed able to find usable semi-swimmers in the epididymis and did not have to dig into the testicles. I was then asked to change and brought in to my own room. This part was one of the few parts that I was very unimpressed with. The girl that was to give me the iv went back and forth from arm to arm trying to find a usable vein. She tried once (very painfully) without success and left the room returning to tell me that the anesthesiologist would put in the iv. Once I got into the creepy sterile white room with lots of lights the doctor tried 2 more times and was successful on the second attempt. He told me I'd feel dizzy and then I was out.

The doctor ended up retrieving 10 follicles with 9 mature eggs and five fertilized. Not great numbers but not bad. Now to wait. Our transfer was scheduled for Sunday morning (also the day we flew back home).

Friday and Saturday were pretty uneventful days for us. The hubs was definitely not as sore as he was with his first biopsy, but still the coconuts were mighty tender. Oh wait, I lied. Friday was eventful. Friday was the first day for our shot in the bum. The shot was a progesterone shot which is mixed in oil.  Let me remind you all that oil is thick and thick requires a wide/long needle. My two fatal errors on Friday: looking at the needle and YouTubing how to give the shot. Both extremely stupid decisions. I refused to let the hubs give me the shot. I was certain it was not necessary and that we would be ok without it. I burst into tears and snot rolled down my face. I was in full on tantrum mode. The hubs was speechless. I honestly think he had no idea what to do. Should he pin me down? Not give it to me? Once I was done hyperventilating, I made the hubs call his mom on Skype. I took three shots of tequila and talked to the MIL while the hubs stabbed me in the butt cheek with a ginormous needle. It is almost a week later and my bum is still sore.

On Sunday it was officially the day. After this day I would be pregnant until proven otherwise (PUPO is the fertility lingo). The doctor advised me to arrive with a full bladder. Note to self-full bladder does not mean drinking 32 oz of water. We arrived at 8:30 am and by 9:00 I was begging the hubs to ask the nurse if I can pee "just a little". The nurse told me I could pee, but only "a little bit". Who were we kidding-who tinkles only a little? Now folks this is where there is some (a lot) of TMI. I went into the bathroom ready to tinkle and who would have thunk it but of course I have to go number 2. I dare you to try not tinkling and pooping at the same time. And moving on. I came out and my sweet dear hubs thinks I need more water, so because I am such an obedient wife I complied, all the while my bladder had already filled back up from the prior 32 oz of water.

They came to wheel me in for my transfer and I was in panic mode. I nearly had a meltdown. I have never had to pee so bad in my life and now they were going to stick an alligator clip up my peach. I am guessing the tossing, turning, hand over my eyes, near tears and looking for places to escape cued my doctor in to my discomfort because he offered me a catheter to relieve some discomfort. I have never been so relieved to have a tube up my tinkle hole in my entire life!  Once all was better and I was not worried I'd pee on my doctors hand I enjoyed the miracle of what they were about to do.

The doctor transferred 3 embryos. Trust me I thought it was a lot too, but one was sort of the runt of the litter and would have been discarded. The hubs watched the transfer on the monitor in another room. The process was easy and painless (minus the minor glitch). They wheeled me back into the room where my hubs was waiting and we had a brief holy crap moment then we were headed back to our hotel then off to the airport!

In a Land Far Far Away There Lived a Mexican Baby

Ladies, in case you were not aware men equate manliness to facial hair and sperm. The hubs is pretty proud of his ability to grow facial hair. As long as it doesn't spread to his back then I'm good to go. If you have both sperm and facial hair then you are a full fledged man. If you don't have both...well then you better be ready to defend your manhood. Ridiculous-I know. Last time I checked you can still be a woman without a uterus and boobs.

Disclaimer: This is all from my point of view...hubs may not agree. He seems to think I'm biased. Uhhhh...duh honey...it's my blog.

When the hubs first found out his diagnosis there was a lot of talk about "being broken". I tried to be encouraging, but at certain points I was just incredibly annoyed. What if it was me that was the problem? Would the hubs think I was less of a woman? I can say without a doubt that he would NOT think that. There were definitely a few rough patches. The people who knew tried to talk to the hubs, but there was no real talking that I was aware of. I could barely get him to talk about it. 

When the hubs confirmed he was indeed a full fledged man the blackout shades were suddenly lifted. If only I could get him to take down the real blackout shades then we wouldn't live in a flipping cave.

I found it very interesting that the more we talked about it the more we discovered couples hidden in the shadows who were dealing with infertility. We were a part of a strange secret society that no one wanted to be a part of. I looked back at all those times that I said "so when are you guys going to have kids" or "you guys would be great parents". I will never again say those things because I know from personal experience that those statements sting every time and it's none of my business. Hint hint people. But things for us were changing...holiday party-lets talk about the hub's sperm...wedding-lets talk about the hub's sperm.  The topic wasn't off limits. Shooting blanks was actually kind of funny but not really.

So what's next...

The research internet circle jerk had begun. I am actually quite mortified that the madre uses this term regularly after my Urban Dictionary research. How were we going to afford IVF? Do we take out a loan? Do we use our retirement? Do we try to save for an eternity? Lets be real here. For those that know me well, it is a known fact that I am all about immediate gratification. I want it now. Imagine spoiled brat temper tantrum in store. Our insurance covers no part of anything that could be considered assisted reporoductive technology. Glad I pay a premium for all those maternity benefits that I can't use. *insert sarcasm* The thought of paying 25-30k for IVF, ISCI, TESA, Medication was overwhelming. I'd explain what all those are but you all have Google.  There was no way. It just wasn't going to happen. Until....

Switched at implantation...bring on the Mexican baby.

Medical Tourism: is patient movement from highly developed nations to other areas of the world for medical care, usually to find treatment at a lower cost. Thanks Wikipedia

Lasik, gastric bypass, dental work, cancer treatment...all treatments people we knew had done in the great country of Mexico. That's right folks...we're off to Mexico-Cancun if you want to be specific! Again the advice and encouragement came pouring in "What if you come back with a Mexican baby" Then I will donate it to my Mexican friend "Is it safe" Well we won't get shot (hopefully) "Why not Canada" Canada has a waiting list and to be honest who wouldn't want to sit on a beach versus going to Canada? Other than the typical concerns most of the response we received was surprised but encouraging.

Flights booked, hotels booked...Cancun here we come....