My period started early. It never does, but of course it did, when I was supposed to wait for the results of this one test that determined what the dosage should be for the injected hormones. I sent my doctor an email the day before my period started, because I could feel they were coming. I asked about the tests and about the dosage. I was worried. If my period had started on Saturday, I couldn’t have called my doctor and I wouldn’t have found out the right dose… That would have meant one more month of waiting. Nothing but waiting.
But my period did start on Friday. And my doctor did have the results. So now I’m injecting 200 IU of hormones into my stomach every morning. And starting from tomorrow there will be two whole injections of different hormones. One is to grow those little buggers up (my follicles) and one to stop them from growing too much.
I am not exactly giving injections to myself, because I wanted us to do this together. Wonderboy does that. Starting from Saturday we have been getting up at 6 am ever morning. He gets the injection needle out (it’s really called a pen and looks like one, which has actually given me a sense of calm). He also puts in the right dose and injects it in to my stomach skin. My job is to desinfect the area and then hold on for dear life while he pierces my skin with the needle.
I confess that there were tears and a lot of talk the first two days. Every feeling that Wonderboy had been suppressing finally bubbled to the surface, when he had to take part, be scared for me and really see what I have to go through.
This has brought us together more than anything that has happened to us. I even feel that there’s this sort of happy waiting. We are actually trying for a baby, and even if it doesn’t sound romantic, and it’s certainly not as much fun as sex is, this is the way we do it. This is the way we make a baby with love.
It doesn’t feel alien. I’ve grown past those feelings. It doesn’t feel unfair anymore that some people get to just have sex and conceive. I am so happy we have this choice. I am so happy that we have grown to be here together. This is the first time I really feel that Wonderboy wants this baby too. This is the first time I feel that he’s serious, that he puts as much into this as I do.
He has been sending me text messages during the day asking how I’m feeling. In one of them he said that he is really worried about me. He has been kind and gentle with me – and he has understood that I haven’t been able to do all the allocated excercises. We have made deals about them. But I haven’t slipped on eating right. I’m a whole size, maybe even two and a half smaller than I was some months ago.
According to this chart I used to be size 8 US 12 UK 42 EU, and now I’m on the tipping point between 6 and 4 depending on the clothes. This is the size I used to be. I even tried a size 2 skirt today and it fit perfectly, but I suspect that it was a label for bigger women, because if I was size 2, I think I would know!
Wonderboy has expressed some worry for me getting pregnant and then gaining the obvious pregnancy weight. I see where he is coming from since my sister blew up like a balloon and is still a bit overweight even though her youngest is over 1 years old. (Which I, by the way, feel is perfectly normal.) It’s just that she’s been overweight over 3 years now, since she had her fist child. I know that it’s important for Wonderboy that I look sexy. I want to look sexy for him. Being thinner makes me feel better in many ways that I didn’t suspect, but the main appeal for me is to see how turned on he gets over my body. There really is no bigger motivation to keep working out a lot and eating well. Well… Maybe the contract and getting spanked, if I don’t do my share, have something to do with it too.
It does feel like a pretty trivial and unfair thing to be worried about, when I’m worrying, if we’re ever going to get pregnant or how I’m going to get through these treatments… But I still talked with Wonderboy about it. I said that we can tweak the contract to consider that I’m pregnant. That I am not interested in letting go of our arrangement, and that I would like it too, if I didn’t gain a lot of excess weight whils pregnant (not the baby weight, the other kind) because that would probably make me feel a lot less desirable and be hard ot get rid of once the baby is born. I think I put his mind at ease about it.
I’m going to get an ultra sound on Friday. Then the doctor, now an IVF conducting doctor from a private clinic, will determine how big are my follicles and which day next week will be the plucking day. It’ll probably be Monday or Tuesday, according to the leaflets they gave us anyway. And that would meaan they would plant the little sprout no later than on Friday next week. Three weeks from now we’ll know, if I’m pregnant or not.
It’s crazy! It’s all here, and I can scarcely believe it!