Our IVF drugs came in the mail yesterday. When I opened the door there was a medium-sized box sitting at my feet labeled “TO BE OPENED BY ADDRESSEE ONLY” and “PLEASE OPEN THIS BOX IMMEDIATELY AND STORE ITEMS AT INDICATED TEMPERATURES.”
It was filled to the top with cartons of vials and bags of syringes. A separate container of drugs were being refrigerated by a couple icepacks inside styrofoam insulation.
We laid everything out on the table and just looked at each other in awe; our first thought was we couldn’t believe the sheer amount of medical supplies. We clearly underestimated the amount of drugs Desiree will pass through her body in the next two months.
I’m not sure what our second thought was, but I’m pretty sure that’s when the worry set in. We kept asking ourselves which drug was first, how we administer each one, when we start them, what the dosages were and so on. It’s a scary feeling being at the mercy of a jumbled stack of papers collected at various appointments over the past month. The fact that our infertility coordinator never sent us the final schedule didn’t help either.
Right now the only thing we think we’ve gotten right is the one drug that needs refrigerated is in the refrigerator. And that probably only happened because the box told us to. The coordinator showed us how to do everything, but who can remember it all? And she didn’t expect us to either, hence the bible she sent us home with.
The daily shots start on Monday so we’ll be spending our Saturday
reading decoding the ever-growing stack of papers on “how to do IVF”. God only knows how we’re going to get through this. One thing’s for sure, there’s no turning back now.