In five days, I will graduate from my fertility clinic.
I have mixed feelings about that.
I loved my clinic. They have been a picture of support and knowledge. The staff know me well and we have easy conversations whenever I go in for a visit. It will be a bittersweet visit on Thursday. I cannot wait to see my little one's heartbeat again and be engaged enough to ask a myriad of questions instead of being dumbstruck at hearing the noise coming from inside myself. Sadly, my regular endocrinologist will be out of town for our last visit, but as a consolation, I will get to see my favorite nurse.
This past week was my first week of school. I thankfully rarely feel queasy, but instead experience continual aversions to all foods except fruit. Fruit always sounds good. I miraculously seldom felt complete exhaustion until Thursday evening came around. By 7:00, I was in the middle of an accidental, solid thirty minute nap. Upon waking, I quickly went to bed. This year, the students have more energy than in previous years, but I will have a fun time with the kids.
I received my first refill of heparin this afternoon. I was slightly worried because we placed the order on Wednesday and ran out this morning. The pharmacist did not have the drug restocked and called around to other pharmacies for us. After while, he realized he did have some heparin, it was just in individual dose containers as opposed to vials that have four doses in them. We also briefly chatted about needles and he threw in a handful of insulin needles free of charge for us to try out to see if I like them any better. Husband asked what the cost of the heparin would be without insurance coverage. $200 a month. Not that this child isn't worth it, but I am glad we do not have to spend $2000 on heparin for the pregnancy.
After the pain, grief, and hassle of getting to this point in my pregnancy, I would gladly take a dozen shots a day, but taking two is irritating (literally and figuratively). On the day I had back to school night, I showed off my bruised stomach to my two coworkers. (One of them did not believe that it was bad enough to make me stop wearing pants. I only wear knit skirts these days.) Let me just tell you that they both were shocked by how black and blue I am. Some weeks are worse than others. I think husband and I are improving our shot techniques, but I am sure the injection sites will always show some color and be tender to the touch.
I will go to my (new) regular OB on the 7th, but it is just for bloodwork and paperwork. (I was tempted to tell the nice older lady on the phone that I have done just about every type of blood work possible for a pregnancy and couldn't I just transfer the information over?) I get to meet the actual OB on the 13th, so I will have an appointment a week for the next three weeks.