The Little Ovaries that Could

I've written this post 3 times since Tuesday and deleted them all. I've been going to the doctor for bloodwork and ultrasounds at the crack of dawn, every other day, for a week. Every day that I have a monitoring appointment, I wait until the late afternoon for the results, then I'm too tired and bummed to post, so I leave it for the next day . The next day comes and I begin to think that surely tomorrow's appointment will have a different outcome, so I ponder that all day and try to write about it in the evening, only to delete the post because I figure everything will change at the appointment tomorrow morning. Is this making sense? Forgive me, I just have to post the craziness that has been my life this past week. If it's hard to follow, maybe you could just reread this slowly, then bookmark the page, and the next time you have insomnia, read this post - it will surely put you to sleep.

My eggs are growing slower than a two-legged turtle. I've been on medication for 13 days and and my biggest follicle is 13. It should be around 20. They are not mature until 18 which means I've got at least 2 more days of medication in front of me. The doctors keep telling me to continue the meds and come back in two days to see how things are progressing. I've reached the point in my cycle where the shots in the stomach don't bother me, it's worrying if they will be able to find a vein to draw blood from that keeps me up at night. I've been blessed with rolling veins which means the nurses do all sorts of digging and holding of veins while (not so) delicately trying to spear one with a pointy implement. I'm the patient the nurses hate to see. I can tell. They often double-team me, two people, smacking my inner elbows, making me squeeze various spongy things to get the blood nice and plump in my tiny bloody highways. The first one takes a poke, digs around to no avail, pokes again, digs around to no avail. Finally, nurse #2 says she thinks she sees a good one, poke, dig, more digging...success. Its a nightmare. And my next one is tomorrow morning at 7am.

Thus far, the verdict on this cycle is: there is no verdict.
I don't really know anything except my ovaries are trying to get up that great big hill we call the Follicular Phase. They are being all dramatic about it, coughing and sputtering. I can hear them now,
I think I can
I think I can
I think I can

I never liked that story anyway. I always wanted to say,
"Shut up already, quit with the 'I think I can' save your energy and get up the stupid hill."

Will keep you posted.