A Hunting We Will Go....

Have you ever noticed how men are attracted to big racks? You know the ones that are so huge that you think the poor thing with them is going to just topple over like a weeble-wobble.  I mean seriously...my husband will practically break his neck to get a better look at the big rack he thought he saw crossing the street or grazing in the yard.    What???  I'm talking about DEER.... what did you think I was talking about??  Tsk. Tsk. Tsk....

My husband is an avid deer hunter.  By avid, I mean he lives to deer hunt.  Starting around August he starts planning for all things hunting...purchase of new hunting gear, deer corn, deer stands, when to plow up the food plots and when to plant seed.  Then until opening day of deer season - which is usually the first weekend in November - he dreams of great big racks.  Which, if a that's the worst vice my husband has, then I guess it's not too bad.  That's what my beautiful Grandmother Dorothy reminded me the other day as I whined a little bit about Michael's upcoming hunting sabbatical.  

  

So what does hunting have to do with infertility?  Nothing really, except that I managed to get a laugh out of my husband last night on the eve of his big day.  While #604 and I are the lead characters in this novel, Michael does have a very important supporting role.  Originally we thought that "collection" was going to have to occur at home, and that I would be the courier.  When the nurse told me that - visions of hilarity flashed through my head.  I could just imagine the conversation I'd have with the the police officer as I would be pulled over for speeding trying to get the "collection" to the clinic on time (within an hour).  Fortunately, we didn't have to go that route, but none-the-less, today was the day to - for a lack of a more delicate way to say it - fire.  So - like a good wife who wanted to encourage her hubby to do a good job, I bought him some reading materials.  I even wrapped them in brown wrapping paper (and tied it with a camo bow). 

But perhaps the funniest thing was the articles.  Isn't that why men buy those magazines anyway?  For the articles??  

Check out the main story....sort of appropriate for the moment at hand (pardon the pun). 

Then I noticed one of the sub-stories...about late breeders.  I almost felt like they were writing about us!

Today was a big hunting day of sorts.  Michael's boys went egg hunting.  We will find out tomorrow how many fertilized.  Hopefully all of them did!  I am grateful for ALL the prayers and well wishes. Please keep them coming!  These next few days are critical for the development of the eggs.  

Continue to pray for #604 - that she's in minimal pain following surgery today and for the eggs that are now well on their way to fertilization.  I should get a call tomorrow afternoon with the fertilization report.  My big day is Monday.  That's when they'll transfer the embryo (actually it'll be technically a blastocyst still) into my uterus. 

Until then, I'm on a daily regimen of estrogen and progesterone injections - 1 cc in the butt.  Ouch.  The progesterone is mixed in oil so it looks like something you'd use to saute onions and mushrooms in.  But I don't think it would be nearly as tasty.  I'm thankful that my husband and sister-in-law are expert marksmen when it comes to giving injections.  And let this serve as a warning - whomever I'm with around 8:00pm every night for the next (hopefully three) month(s) will be asked to step up to the firing line to assist. 

And as for my husband, he's ready for Opening Day of the 2011 Hunting Season.  He dodged a bullet with the dates of the egg retrieval and embryo transfer....either of them could have been this weekend.  I'm glad they weren't, because I know how much he enjoys watching those big racks!   And after dealing with my hormonalness (HA!  This word spell-checked as "manliness.") this last month - he deserves it.