Starting Our Family

The reality of infertility, IVF and donor eggs

My Milkshake Brings All the Boys to the Yard…

on May 25, 2013
 Originaly posted May 15, 2013 – 

Oh how I love that song.  Sorry if some of you will be singing it all day now.  So can you guess what this blog will be about?  You guessed it- TITTIES!  Or more specifically MY titties.

Unfortunately its not just my lower lady bits that don’t function properly.  I’ve also had a few scares with my upper lady bits- the boobs- or my specifically, my left boob.  I’ve had several mammograms and ultrasounds, 2 biopsies and a lumpectomy.  Thank the Lord all have been benign and just characterized as fibrocystic breasts.  I feel bad for my lefty because its clearly the runt of the two and I feel like its getting picked on.  As long as I get to keep it I guess that’s all that matters.  I love my tits!  Yeah, I said it.  They are nicely sized and shaped and I feel I have perfect nipple to boob ratio and lovely nipple color.  I’m a boob girl- what else can I say.  Since I’ve always loved my boobies I want to keep them around so for several years already I’ve been having routine mammograms.  Its always a fight with my insurance company since I’m not 40 yet and in their minds you have to be 40+ to get breast cancer.  A few of them I’ve had to pay out of pocket but ease of mind is priceless.  Plus self breast exams are pointless for me because of all the cysts so I leave it to the professionals. 

For those of you who have yet to experience a mammogram I will attempt to describe it.  First of all you cannot wear perfume or deodorant before your exam.  I’m a body hygiene freak so knowing I can’t wear deodorant brings me anxiety and makes me sweat.  You go a put on a lovely, usually pink, robe and sit in a room with a bunch of other nervous stinky women.  Once its your turn you go into the exam room and the technician asks you all the same questions you already answered on your pre-exam paperwork.  This annoys me.  Why did I have to write it if you’re not going to read it?  And why make me fill it out if you’re only going to enter it into the computer while you’re asking me anyway?  So this stranger then puts your boob on a plastic plate and smoothes it out- almost like she is kneading dough.  She is also pretending like its pleasurable and not hurting you one bit, which it is.  She will make you get into all sorts of weird positions like she is a yoga instructor although the positions are usually either uncomfortable or not possible.  Then she lowers another plastic plate onto you boob and flattens it.  Just when you start to think “this isn’t so bad” she presses the button and the plates press together so tight you feel like an elephant is standing on your tit.  She tells you to hold your breathe, snaps a shot and then release.  Yay its over!  But not really.  You have to perform the same circus act in several different position for each boob.  I swear- if men had to get mammograms on their testicles I’m sure we would have a much easier, painless procedure quickly invented.

So of course this blog can’t just be about preserving 2nd base.  It somehow has to tie into infertility right?  Correctomundo!

When the technician was asking me all the questions I had previously answered on my paperwork she somehow cornered me into outing myself on my infertility and IVF.   If she had just read the paperwork she probably wouldn’t have put two and two together and I would have been in the clear.  But this is how the conversation went…

Technician: are you pregnant?

Stinky Pits Me:  no

Technician: is there a chance you can be pregnant?

Stinky Pits Me: no

Technician: date of your last period?

Stinky Pits Me: March 9th

Technician: Its May- so you haven’t had your period since March?  So you could be pregnant?

Stinky Pits Me: no, trust me I’m not

Technician: Have you taken a test?

Stinky Pits Me: No but I don’t need to.  I’m on the pill and only take the active pills so I don’t get a period.

Technician: Maybe you should take a pregnancy test just in case.

Stinky Pits Me (who is sweating even more at this point because I know I have to say it): No I’m not pregnant- I’m infertile.  I have been doing IVF for a year and it hasn’t worked.  I have shitty eggs.  They are so shitty that I now have to use donor eggs.  We haven’t started our donor cycle yet so there is no way in hell that I’m pregnant.  Plus I’m on the birth control pill and I can’t even remember when the last time I had sex was because all the other shit they have me taking either exhausts me or makes me feel gross so no I’m not pregnant and if I am then you need to go back on that form and change my name to Virgin Mary (at this point I had tears in my eyes and I can’t even convey how frantic I must have sounded while saying all this)

Technician: OK please lower your robe

I don’t know if she had any more questions to fill out on her little computer but she was clearly done asking.  Maybe that’s the reason they make you write it all out?  Just in case some drama goes down and they can’t finish their online quiz?  I don’t think she knew what to say to my little rant.  I couldn’t tell if she was sorry or embarrassed or horrified or what.  She just focused on my boobs from that point forward. 

Moral of the story: if you are doing IVF get a clearance note from your RE prior to scheduling a mammogram- it will save you some heartache and you can just focus on the elephant standing on your tit as the only elephant in the room.

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