diagram_02Sometimes I wonder what people would think if they walked into our house during our IVF cycle. Syringes, vials, and alcohol wipes are spread across our kitchen table as we get ready to do our daily shot of P.rogesterone. There’s also huge tupperware container of used syringes at the other end of the table. To the uninformed eye, we are obviously, hard core druggies preparing for our next fix.

With 7 IUI’s and 1 IVF, I’ve become a master of administering injections. Our IUI injections were easy, just a small needle below the belly button. The first few tries, Shelby looked at me with mock suspicion and wondered if I actually injected the medicine into her body. I assured her every time, that yes dear, I really do want a baby and am not just here for the ride. I can’t help it if I’m the zen master of injections. When it came time for our first intramuscular injection, Shelby put up a little more resistance than I expected. I swear, I thought the girl was going to pass out. She iced her skin until it was blue. It was almost painful for me to touch the injection site. I kept telling her that frost bite isn’t going to make this any better. I even had to bust out my “big boy” voice to encourage her to STOP MOVING. After the vial was emptied into her body, she blinked at me. “That was it? That didn’t hurt at all.” Yep – that’s me! Mr. “Injection Master” Shelby.

After a few weeks of daily, and then weekly injections, we really had our 8:00 PM routine down. It’s easy; Ice, fill the vial, convince Shelby that it won’t hurt, inject the medicine, walk the dog, Shelby would take a shower, I’d remark the injection site with a permanent marker, and we’d go bed. Rinse and repeat. As long as we remembered to keep her hips marked, we’d be good to go. In the middle of everything, Shelby got some well-deserved TLC and treated herself to a massage. If only I could have been a fly on the wall when her masseuse stopped the massage and gaped at the marking on Shelby’s hips. After a few days of marking her hips, I got bored with simple circles. Eventually I would mark the area with smiley faces, demon faces, and the occasional “stick it to her here” circle-shaped message. My favorite was the devil on the left hip and angle on the other. It was great and I’d get away with it every time. “Really, I swear! It’s just a circle this time. Promise!”

Now that we’re officially done with our shots, needles and vials (for now), I find myself missing it in some small way. For a few minutes a day, there was something intimate and sensual about marking her hips. I enjoyed doing my part in helping her create life inside her, even if it was to simply draw a buck-toothed smiley face.

Side Note: I would like to point out that I used the phrase “injecting Shelby” many times without being dirty. Two points to me, the injection master!

*snicker*