Box of Drugs

The big box of drugs should be arriving tomorrow and that’s when I think it will really sink in that we’re getting into the thick of this whole IVF process. We’re about a week into the suppression stage, where they basically shut down Stef’s reproductive system. She’s on the pill now and she’ll start Lupron injections in just over a week. Beyond that milestone, it’s all a fog. Our nurse has assured us that she’ll keep our heads from spinning off, that she’ll let us know what’s next at every step, and I’m trusting her on this, because there is no way I could possibly keep track.

I know that Stef continues on the pill and on Lupron for a while, until they’re sure that she’s “shut down”, so to speak, and then they start something called Follistim, which, as I understand it, sort-of supercharges her ovaries in an attempt to ripen many eggs instead of just one. At some point I have to start sticking her with a needle every night. It’s all very frightening to me now, which is why I’m sort-of putting blinders on. Normally, I’d want to be aware of every single little step between now and the day we find out whether or not we’re pregnant. But, in this case, I think I’m more comfortable taking it one step at a time.

On my lunchbreak today, I started paging through the whole backstory at A Little Pregnant. It’s certainly a rough tale and it does make you realize, as Beth mentioned the other day that, “It’s against astronomical odds that [the baby in that story] exists.” As someone who hasn’t yet been through the kind of failures that Julie and countless others have survived, it’s hard to read about an ordeal like hers without getting down. She went through four IVF cycles before she finally got pregnant and even then, her pregnancy was not without major incident. Four cycles?!? I’m having a hard enough time getting through the first month of one of them.

But it’s comforting to know that there are a wealth of resources out there, far more stories being told across the Internet than I ever would have imagined, and a real community that, while I’d never really be welcome to be a part of, me being a man, I can feel free to lurk around as I see fit.

So, the process moves on. I don’t know if I’m ready to see all the medications and needles and things that will be inside of that box when I come home tomorrow. But, then again, I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready for any of this.