If I had tried really, really hard to pick a time when I would LEAST like to be not drinking and injecting myself with hormones, it would probably be this week. Which is, of course, why today I’m starting the injections for my third – and final – cycle of egg freezing.
This week I have in my diary: 1 x reunion of old work colleagues, 1 x best friend’s hen do, 1 x best friend’s wedding, 1 x work night out, 1 x boozy Sunday lunch with the girls. I’ve already had to cancel the blow dry I had planned for the morning of the wedding because I have to have my day 5 scan that morning instead.
Why am I doing this? Because there’s never a good time. Because there’s always a party or a holiday or a wedding or another reason not to do it. And, frankly, I just want it done and out of the way. I don’t want to have to worry about it any more. But still, it’s really fucking annoying. And will, undoubtedly, give rise to more ridiculous scenarios.
Because my life has become utterly ridiculous. This morning, for example, I had a day 2 scan – just so they could check that my ovaries looked in good enough condition to start the cycle. (They did – wooo – five follicles on one side, six on the other.) As I knew I had a couple of work meetings afterwards and I’d have to carry around with me the Gonal-F that needs refrigerating, I had the forethought to bring a couple of insulated bags with me. But then the nurse suggested that I bought some frozen peas to pop in with the Gonal-F to ensure it stayed cool. So, concealed in a mini insulated M&S picnic bag, I carried a small bag of frozen peas and a syringe pen full of hormones into the two meetings I had this morning. This is my new normal.
I’m currently trying to work out what’s the best time for me to inject – early at around 6.30, or later at around 10.30, given that I want to try to do it roughly the same time each night and I’m going to be out tonight, tomorrow and Saturday. Whatever I choose, there’s no way round the fact that, alongside the usual essentials I carry to a wedding – lip gloss, tissues, extra hair pins – I’m also going to have to tote around a bag of frozen peas and a syringe of hormones.
And I’m probably going to have to inject myself in the loo. I can only hope that come Saturday, I’ll still only be injecting Gonal-F (which comes in a portable pen) and not also Cetrotide (which has to be mixed up and transferred from a vial to a syringe) – doing that in a tiny cubicle with no flat surfaces could be, um, interesting.
Stabbing myself with needles in a loo, while stone cold sober, was not really how I expected to be spending the evening of my best friend’s wedding…