I've written a cheer for them:
Who's got fertility?
We do, we do!
Gooooooooooo fertility pills!
(Kick one leg, one hand on hip while other reaches to the sky)
I always wanted to be a cheerleader. Anyone who really knows me knows that.
Anyway, we learned how to load up the new shot. It looked like a pen that, if used for the wrong purpose, could be an extremely expensive and useless pen. Like the ones you get for graduation presents. It looks like the blue one:
You dial it up, smash it into the tummy, and plunge. I thought I would hate it, but as it turns out, it was much better than the other needles. It went in smoothly and finished soft. No stinging afterburn or puncture wounds. (Up until the end, that sounded like a beer commercial, no?) Once David tried the pen, he returned to old faithful and shot me up with the regular old needles for the second vial. I strongly disagree with the use of the regular old needles after the expensive pen. In fact, after a strong morning at Ball Pilates (click in case you never read about Ball Pilates), my abs were pretty tight. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and David poked me with the regular old needle. It burned and I squeaked and when David pulled back I asked, "Done?!""Nope." He held up the needle. It had literally BENT trying to go into my skin. That's right people. BENT. If you didn't believe in Ball Pilates before, you believe in it now. YOU BELIEVE IN IT NOOOW!!!
David did two shots in my tummy every night in the shape of a smiley face beneath my bellybutton for 3 nights. By the end it looked as if a leprochan had attacked me repeatedly with a Lilliputian sword. What a leprochan was doing with a Lilliputian's sword, I'll never know. I just hope the land of Lilliput isn't being threatened by leprochans again. It just seems like they should be on the same side.