It happens every single time. I know it’s coming, I try and brace for it, and then I’M SO OVERWHELMED I CAN’T SEE STRAIGHT AND HAVE TO CALL SHAWN CRYING. It’s FET protocol day. It’s the day you’re sent THE EMAIL from your FET nurse, once you’ve received the green light from your appointments saying you can move forward with the transfer. This email comes with like five attachments, which would overwhelm me on a good day. One of the emails is a consent form where you sign in front of a notary saying that yes you consent to getting pregnant (okay, it’s worded more legally and fancy and uses words like “I, and we, agree to transfer our frozen-thawed embryos to my uterus… there are limitations and risks…” and so on and so forth, legal stuff). There are forms color coded to the rainbow and back, telling me when to order this medicine, when to start injections (BEFORE 7PM ON THIS GIVEN DATE, oh perfect, Shawn’s at work til 8:30, guess I’ll be asking the neighbor for ‘injection into my swollen belly’ assistance #casual), and be at an appointment SATURDAY BEFORE 10AM for a lining ultrasound and labs…) and just when I’m feeling overly overwhelmed, I read on to see that this local appointment that I need is on a Saturday, and they’re CLOSED ON SATURDAYS. Great. The email casually says, in more color-coded threatening language that if I can’t have it done here on that date, with same-day results, that I will once again have to fly to Denver for the appointment. I’m already flying to Denver THREE times for appointments, no one blinking an eye at this SAHM’s commute. Do I look like I commute? I have to pack a CARRY-ON and have a BOARDING PASS for a TWENTY MINUTE uterine lining check and labs. (Sorry if you’re squeamish about the word “uterus”, guys… Shawn loves it. He can’t stop saying the word, it’s his favorite. He says it daily. JK. Carry on…)
SIGH. It’s just so overwhelming because it’s a HUGE thing. Life is at stake here. And shots. 3-4 months of shots (I’m tired of shots. They hurt. I’ve had enough of them over the course of my life), and medicine, and patches, and not knowing how I’ll respond, or feel… and once again, what the end result will be. Some days I’m afraid a natural pregnancy has made me weak. I’ve been through this before, but what if getting pregnant the natural/common way has made me a baby and I can’t fight for this with the same gusto and be brave and belly up to more belly shots (some go from August 18 to 6 weeks postpartum just because of a genetic blood clot disorder, I had the same with Noella and Shilo). But then Shawn says, “YOU GOT THIS BABE. You’re the strongest woman I know.” And Erin reminds me that, “God, who is the Great Sustainer, has got me.”
I take a deep breath and vow to move forward, attempting to take it day by day, taking on one chunk of the color coded craziness at a time, and moving one day closer to our babies. (The two that are frozen, in Denver, and have been since fall 2016, waiting to be transferred to my UTERUS (your favorite word too??) in LESS THAN 50 days!!!!
And then the Fed Ex guy arrives with my huge ol’ box of meds and I have to call Shawn for another quick little pep talk.