& the fun continues!
Today, was follicle ultrasound day…AKA day of diarrhea (I apologize to the faint of heart), panic attacks, & some tears (Okay, like 4 on & off cycles of tears..thanks, hormones).
So, what the hell is a follicle ultrasound?
super fun transvaginal ultrasound that looks at how many follicles are hanging out in your ovaries waiting to turn into eggs->babies (Don’t feel bad, I had no idea either until 2 pm).
Our fertility specialist said I had three follicles: two on the right & one on the left..then jokingly said, “You could have twins! What, you didn’t think that was funny?”
Shortly after, & I mean very shortly, he walked out & scheduled the IUI for this Friday. Tomorrow, I take the Ovidrel shot..so excited.
It’s an ultrasound, what’s the big deal?
Well, the short answer here is, when you have PTSD, everything related to your trauma is a big.damn.deal.
It all started this morning, immediately after I woke up. I’m an over thinker…so I thought…& I thought…& I thought myself right into a panic attack. Thankfully, I managed to talk myself out of it in about fifteen minutes.
After I got ready for the appointment I had a light bulb! I’d get Starbucks so I would be more relaxed…the light bulb was apparently dimming out since, after chugging half my latte, I remembered a fun fact….caffeine feeds anxiety…way to go, Cesilee..way to go.
Despite the caffeine frenzy & my, “clomid cloud,” I managed to sign in & sit down in the waiting room like a normal person. There was no mascara war paint…no irritatingly repetitive tapping leg..&-shockingly-no mood swings (Weee).
The ultrasound went like other vaginal ultrasounds I’d had in the past. Pretty standard. I was a little more sensitive & had more pressure than other times I’d had it done. I’ve read other women say they experienced much of the same due to their ovaries being enlarged from the fertility drugs.
Emotionally, although it was mostly okay, any & all coping skills went out the window the moment the nurse told me I could get undressed & he’d be in a second. Farewell, coping skills-you were a nice thought. My heart started beating faster, the cold sweat started, & there I was again, for the second time of the day, feeling like I was going to have a panic attack…can’t even blame Clomid for that one.
I knew any & all fertility test/treatments would be harder for me than they were for someone without the added pressure of PTSD. I knew that. My therapist knew that. We’d planned around it. I’d hold my breath for 3-4 seconds, let it out for 3-4 seconds, then repeat. It sounded like a winning play, one I repeated in my mind the entire morning & afternoon leading up to the appointment. & then, as I was laid back about to have it done, I lost it. I couldn’t even think of anything to do to make the situation any less terrifying for me. Then I had my usual reaction to these kinds of ultrasounds..I always feel like I’m about to cry..while trying, with everything in me, not to actually do it. But I got through it nonetheless.
Once all was said & done, I was elated that I had at least 3 follicles. 3 chances at my sweet rainbow baby.