Only connect

I had my injection class this morning. For all that I was bitching about it being inconvenient and ridiculously long, it ended up being pretty useful. It only took an hour, not the hour and a half threatened, thank goodness. The very perky nurse went over the clinic's protocol for IUI with injectibles (other than the additional monitoring, it differs in other minor ways from Clomid IUI--not that I've ever managed to have one of those) and gave us lots of handouts on the meds we're using (Follistim and Ovidrel for most) and their side effects.

A couple of the women--there were six of us total, two of whom brought their husbands--were freaking out at the description of OHSS, which of course I already knew all about from my friends inside the computer and Dr. Google. I don't understand--I'm sure these people can afford computers, how do they NOT jump on the Internet and get every scrap of information possible? Ditto for one woman's shock that we would have to have US and bloods every other day--it's all there on the Internets, honey. Reminded me of Beth wanting to pass out a blogroll to everyone in her IVF class. Finally, we got to practice loading up the Follistim pen and injecting a very battered-looking dummy.

I suppose I could have gotten all the information just as easily if I'd just had 10 minutes with the nurse. And I definitely didn't appreciate finding out that my insurance doesn't cover the class and I had to fork over $150 for it. But other than the information, it was actually nice to just be sitting in a room with a bunch of other infertile women. As much as I love blogland and my friends inside the computer (and you know I love you, baby--you’ll always be my number one), I do miss having that human, face-to-face connection with other people who understand.

Like, when the nurse was going over timing (Ovidrel injection between 10-11 pm, intercourse that night, abstain the next day, IUI the day after), one husband asked about intercouse after the IUI. The nurse said, "Well, it can't hurt, so you can certainly have intercourse if you want to." Another woman said, "I don’t think any of us will want to!" and we all nodded and laughed. The husband who asked the question joked, "Yeah, I’ve never felt so unattractive in my life." Or when the nurse was talking about the 2ww, and one woman said, “Oh, that’s the worst time,” and we all gave little sighs.

I try to grasp at real-life moments of connection like this wherever possible. Last Thursday I had dinner with a good friend who was eager to get the update on everything we're going through. She's not actively TTC (off the pill, waiting to see what happens, noting her very irregular cycles), but she asked intelligent questions and totally got everything I was saying from an emotional standpoint, too.

Then the next night, I had dinner with another friend, who wanted to pick my brain about switching careers to my field. One glass of wine thing led to another and I found myself telling her that we were trying to get pregnant, that it wasn't going well, etc. And immediately regretted it. Not only was everything I was saying completely incomprehensible to her emotionally, she asked the most annoyingly stupid questions. Like "What’s Clomid?" and--I kid you not--"What’s IVF?" To her credit, she did figure out that last one on her own ("Oh, wait...in...vitro...fertilization?") but I was flabbergasted. Honestly, what educated 30-something woman has never ever heard of Clomid?!? Sigh.

And that is why you guys will always be my first love.