Based on conversations with people who have gone through IVF and everything I've read about IVF, a meltdown was inevitable due to the massive amount of hormones I'm injecting into myself on a daily basis. I might be considering it a victory that my first meltdown didn't occur until Day 6 of the meds.
There's nothing quite as awkward as jumping out of a meeting with your client mid-conversation to answer your cell phone. Granted, it was the call from the fertility clinic telling me what I should do next based on the results of the morning scan and blood work, and my client knows what's going on (and is very supportive), but it's still weird to do that when you're the person running the meeting.
Yesterday was my first monitoring appointment. Thankfully, I only had to drive an hour south to a women's health center instead of four hours to the fertility clinic in Jacksonville.
When we decided we wanted to start working on having kids, this is not quite what I envisioned.
My IVF start date had been set for today. I was supposed to go back to Jacksonville to get another scan done, have more blood drawn, and be taught how to mix the medicines and inject them into my stomach on a daily basis. Oh, and the paying part happens, too. But, a few days after my start date was set at my last appointment, every weather and news station started talking about Hurricane Irma, and things didn't look good for Jacksonville.
About 20 years ago, a nutritionist told me that if I didn't change my habits, I'd never be able to have children. Despite zero interest in having children (when I was little, I told my mom I wanted to be a teacher, an artist, and a writer, and wouldn't have time to be a mommy), that nutritionist's words scared me into making some significant changes in my life. Over time, my feelings about children changed from not wanting them to not knowing if I wanted them.