Needles. Terrify. Me.
No bueno.
Everyday I watched my Dad inject himself with insulin and it would make me shudder. I prayed I never would get diabetes and have to do the same. I should have also prayed I would never have to take anything else that required stabbing a needle into my stomach.
When my package arrived with my injections I was overwhelmed and scared to death. I couldn't get over the 1 1/2 inch needles that were included in the box. I thought I was going to have to use those needles until I figured out I only had to use the 1/2 inch needles. Thank goodness! The box contained enough for three 113 unit injections of Bravelle (Follicle Stimulating Hormone).
Fun fact: Bravelle comes from human urine. Thank you kind donors for sharing your pee with me.
The package also had my trigger shot for my IUI. The trigger shot is a ginormous dose of hCG that triggers ovulation. Since I don't ovulate on my own this will certainly be necessary.
(Sorry about the bad picture...my hands were shaking from being so nervous!)
Last night I did my first Bravelle injection. After tears and loving support from my husband I began the process. I had to mix three bottles of the Bravelle with the sodium chloride to get an amount concentrated enough for my dosage. And then I just did it. I stabbed the needle in my stomach and pushed in the plunger and took it out. I felt like a druggie. I freaked when I saw a small amount left in the syringe and stabbed myself again fearing I didn't get enough in. That probably wasn't smart, but I'm still alive.
I'm not trying to make light of this situation, but joking about it helps me cope.
All in all was it that bad? No. Was it worth the tears and anxiety? Not really. Now I know the next injection tomorrow will be fine and I shouldn't have to worry. But seriously though...needles are not cool.
The things I will do for an Itty Bitty Ivie!
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