I would be a great fertile. Not wanting to boast, but on a pretty low does of drugs (75 Menopur, 75 Gonal F and a touch of growth hormone) my ovaries are exploding. I am destined to reproduce at Duggar-level, if only my womb could deliver on my ovaries’ potential.
Today the doctor who scanned me and the nurses who took my bloods all commented on how bloated I must be feeling. U-huh!
She warned me to take it easy “No hanging upside down or cartwheels.” Which is a bummer because that was totally what I had planned for tonight. Oh well, we all have to make sacrifices.
I took your advice, dear readers, and in an attempt to ease the pain of the digging in waistband and am wearing a dress today. Disconcertingly this has lead to no fewer than 5 people telling me I look nice, and it is only lunchtime. Which really highlights how little effort I normally put into my appearance. Still better that than telling me I look fat.
Egg collection is likely to be early next week.