Scans and Samples and Vials, Oh my!
Lab work is a lot of freaking WORK. I knew this - sorta. During our first go-round with fertility treatment, I did a few cycles of Clomid. (Show of hands on who else hated this drug?! #ThoughtIWasCrazy #AngryAllTheTime #JesusTakeTheWheel #AndTheseFreakingPills). While on Clomid, blood work was involved. I had the routine down pat: cycle starts, few days of Clomid, blood work, scheduled intercourse, follow up with my gyno. Repeat next month. Then repeat again. And again. The blood work never bothered me. I'm not afraid of needles and as long as I don't watch you stick me, I'm good. Take my blood & let me go on my merry way. Thankyouverymuch.
This go-round? Holy Schnikes. My emotions are ALL. OVER. THE. PLACE. Maybe because this time I'm in a fertility clinic that smells like depression & debt? Maybe because I'm not in a hospital setting? Maybe because this time feels real? Idk. This past week, I had my first ultrasound to check my ovaries, gave a total of TEN vials of blood, and a surprise urine sample. Each time I went into the clinic, I cried. Why? Because I'm a hot mess, obvi.
Scanning my ovaries, which look oddly like swiss cheese to me - I cried.
Looking over at all the vials of blood I just gave - I cried.
Standing in the bathroom to give a urine sample when I don't have to tinkle - I cried.
This isn't even the hard part. This isn't a side effect of any meds. This is just the beginning...
And I have to do this all over again next month. Oof.
When I got my lab results back, I thought I'd be proactive and look up what each marker meant. That was a bad idea. Per WebMD, I'm either menopausal or have cancer and dying. Ha! Seriously though, I don't know what these results mean. I think everything is in "normal range", but honestly, I have no clue.
Hopefully, next month is easier. At least now I'll know what to expect. I'll know that the ultrasound tech doesn't talk much. I'll know that she's very much a wham-bam-thank-ya-ma'am kinda gal. I'll know that the phlebotomist is really good at her job and will chat with me if it helps ease my nerves. (Confession: totally had to look up how to spell phlebotomist.) I'll know to drink plenty of water before I arrive. And I'll learn their names. Then it'll feel more personal and maybe not nearly as scary. Then maybe it'll be even easier the following month, if - of course - that's even needed.
It can be a struggle to joyfully wait, but I'm trying my best.
