It's All in the Timing

Ultrasound after the three nights of shots = WOOHOOO!!!

Once again, follicles grew bigger. One was 18 (translation: ready to go!) and one was 14 (translation: ready to go in just a minute!). Turns out that my left ovary makes more eggs than my right one. This is sad, because I'm right handed. I'm sure my right ovary is sitting in there thinking, "All the OTHER right-sided limbs and organs get to do stuff..."

With all this action, Sally (my fave-o nurse) decided it was time for the BIG SHOT again. (Remember, that's the shot that opens the gates and starts the eggs on the race of their lives!) Things are different this time around because we're doing the IUI. We have to time the BIG SHOT perfectly, otherwise we'll be getting inseminated at 3am, and I'm pretty sure the nurse doing it at 3am isn't as accurate as the nurse doing it at 10am. And if there's one thing you want when you're getting inseminated, it's an accurate nurse.
Before Sally gave me the BIG SHOT schedule, she pulled out the BIG NEEDLE to show Dave how to inject it.
"Um, Sally. Remember? I come HERE to get the BIG SHOT. Dave doesn't do it."
"Not at 10 o'clock at night you don't."
"Wait, are you saying the only time I can take this shot is at 10 o'clock tomorrow night?!"
"Well, yeah if you want to attend your own IUI at 10am the next morning."
"WHO'S GOING TO BE HERE AT 10 O'CLOCK TOMORROW NIGHT SALLY? WHO?"
David took my hand and hushed me. "It's fine, honey. I can do it."
"YOU CAN NOT DO THE BIG SHOT. YOU HAVE NO MEDICAL BACKGROUND AND YOU BENT THE LAST LITTLE NEEDLE YOU TRIED TO STICK IN ME."
Have I mentioned that the shots can make you pretty hormonal and irrational? They can. So much so that you completely forget your husband's feelings or his existence as a person in general sometimes. This isn't right and it isn't fair, but let me tell you about how "right" and "fair" were the words going through my mind at this moment.

I rushed home and called my sister-in-law. She used to give flu shots back in the day. At least she had some kind of medical background. Mind you, she has a 4-month-old baby, but did that enter my mind when I asked her if I could come crash her house at 10pm and get her to shoot me in the butt?
Well, yes. It entered my mind about an hour later when I was sitting on my bed sobbing hysterically over what a selfish, infertile girl I was. My sister-in-law immediately told me she would do that shot for me, of course. But if I woke that baby up, it could screw up her entire night's sleep. And ruining that entire night's sleep meant possibly throwing off the rest of her WEEK'S sleep! That would have been on ME. My emotional state was about as stable as a pony on a pogo stick, so I didn't think I could handle being responsible for a family's entire week's sleep.

Then I suddenly remembered the day Winnie delivered my diagnosis to me right after inviting me to join the German American Club up the street from our house. Winnie lived within a mile of us! She was always telling us to stop by! I wonder if Winnie would mind if we stopped by at night? Say, 10 o'clock at night?!