Warning: if you haven’t done the progesterone shot yet, you may not want to read this since all I do is complain about how much it hurts.
I have never had the misfortune to be shot in the ass by any projectile or bullet, but I imagine that I now know how it feels. It H-U-R-T-S like H-E-L-L. I did my first progesterone injection last night (more on how I did it a little later) and dutifully rubbed the site for 20 seconds. That didn’t do squat to ameliorate the already substantial ache that was beginning to build. Nada. Niente. Rien. As my right ass cheek gets progressively sorer (is that a word?) I use the heating pad – being careful to keep it on my ass, not near the midsection – which also does nothing. I go to bed slowly turning around trying to find that one perfect position where nothing hurts. It’s not happening. Only this afternoon is the soreness subsiding enough that the initial ass plant on a chair or seat hurts, but it gradually dies down. This of course, was just in time for injection number 2 on the left. The stick hurt like a mo-fo but that cheek so far has given nary a twinge. I suspect the right side will calm down just in time for the next injection.
Now, Melanie has asked for some tips on the pretzel twist method of giving one’s self progesterone injections.
Image: z e n
I should clarify that I was instructed to give them closer to the hip than toward the crack, so I don’t have to do a full 180° twist. It’s more like a 120° twist. I tend to stretch out the leg that corresponds to the Cheek O’ the Night but not tense it so that the leg kind of makes half the journey. Being a righty, it was much easier to stick the right side last night because it was right there (no pun intended). This evening’s injection on the left proved to be a little more difficult, but if you anchor your non-cheek leg and swing the cheek-leg you have good traction and can twist more easily. I was also given the option of doing it in the thigh, but that is so not an attractive option. I’m a butt girl, through and through. Hope that helps, Melanie!
In other news, I have been guilty of playing on Dr. Google again. This time, I’ve been researching the pregnancy rates of day 3 vs. day 5 blast transfers. I had a day 3 transfer and there seems to be a lot of discussion out there that this is not the way to go anymore. However, I trust Dr. Uterus implicitly, so I am pretty certain he had a reason for doing a day 3 transfer rather than a day 5 (and it wasn’t because the day 5 would have landed on a Sunday – I saw him last Sunday for a scan). I will ask about it, but there really isn’t a whole lot I can do about it now and fretting certainly won’t help.
Lastly, I should share something that I have been keeping to myself. Today is my birthday. On this day, 32 years ago Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow fortelling six more weeks of winter and in a now rather famous hospital, Mrs. X made her debut with a full head of hair, frosted at the ends in white blonde (that so didn’t last) without the benefit of drugs (at my mom’s choice, crazy woman). I cried out at the injustice of leaving a great free home and then kind of looked around (Actually, I don’t remember anything – I just heard this from my parents).
32 years later I’m still my parents’ baby girl and I genuinely and most fervently wish that I will have a baby (or two) in my arms by my 33rd birthday (or at least firmly in the oven).