We met with the doctor, we signed all the paperwork. I've begun the injections.
The paperwork was overwhelming. After reading a few pages of risks, side effects, and dangers, I handed everything over to my husband. I told him to let me know if there was anything he was concerned about and otherwise I'd just sign them all.
We did have to decide what would happen to the embroys if either one or both of us die.
My husband: If we both die, I guess we donate them?
Me: OK. If anyone wants them, I guess they can have them. *initials the box*
My husband: If I die, you get the egg, and if you do, they go to me?
Me: OK. *intials two boxes* And if we get divorced?
My husband: I don't know. They go to you?
Me: What? You don't care about having our baby if we break up?
My husband: *sighs* OK, fine. I'll take any eggs if we divorce.
Me: So now you're divorcing me and taking our baby?
My husband: *sigh*
He doesn't always find me funny.
Papers signed, we got our training, and the real fun begins:
And on my bedside table:
I've been giving myself the injections, something that I didn't think I'd be brave enough to do. I never thought that I'd be the kind of person who could stab themself with a needle.
But I guess I am. Yay me?