This past weekend was nuts.
Life can’t revolve around fertility treatments and trying to get pregnant. I mean, it kind of does, but just because we’re trying so desperately to have a baby doesn’t mean that there are other aspects of our lives that can’t go ignored.
That little reminder hit me full in the face this weekend.
So last Thursday evening, I triggered in the bathroom of a supermarket. Great. Ready for Saturday, full steam ahead.
And then my husband and I get home, make dinner…and our eldest pup, Wesley, hurts himself. We have to rush him to the Emergency Vet at 10pm.
Stress level begins to rise.
He has to stay overnight at the hospital, which breaks my heart. Quincy picks him up Friday while I’m at work, but when I get home that afternoon, he’s still a wreck. He’s still super dopey from the anesthesia, he’s thrown up, and he refuses to even move from the middle of the hallway floor. On top of that, he refuses to eat. It’s been 24 hours since his minor surgery, and he won’t move, won’t eat, won’t drink water, and – most importantly – we can’t get him to take his antibiotics and pain meds.
Stress level now hits yellow alert.
I call the vet back and explain to them what’s going on. He has a large incision on his chest and therefore needs his antibiotics, which he’s refusing. They reassure me he’ll be fine for a day or so without them, but if he’s not better by Saturday afternoon, he may need to come back in. Saturday morning is our IUI…
Shields up. Red Alert.
Saturday morning rolls around and he still refuses to eat, drink, or take medicine. You can tell he’s feeling a bit better; he’s at least holding his head up and watching us step over him, but I’m entering panic mode with my pupper. Remember, this fat little furball is our child – but now we’re running super late for the IUI. We’ll only be gone a few hours, so we give up and rush out the door, intending on trying again with food and medicine as soon as we get back home. I’m already texting Dr Landay and letting her know we’re running late.
The IUI goes well. I mean, amazingly well. I must have been ovulating as she was looking at the ultrasound, because some little follicles were still attached, but there was one that she could tell had already popped (the empty space where it had been was full of fluid), and another one had either just released the egg or was about to. So, definitely two good sized follicles released eggs. On top of that, Quincy’s sample was once again amazing, and since we were the only ones in the office on a Saturday morning…Dr Landay lets me look at them under the microscope.
I know, it sounds weird, but it was incredible. I was looking at live, active sperm, in real time, with my own eyes. It was so cool. Those little swimmers could eventually become half of our baby. It was really cool. I always see my eggs on the ultrasounds, but to see the other component was really fascinating.
Anyway, after the IUI, we had an appointment to get brakes put on the car, which took two hours. Then we headed home. So we were gone maybe 5 hours, 6 tops. Sometime between the last time I checked in on the kids with our pet camera around 1pm and the time we walked in the house, though…someone got Wesley’s pain pills off of the back of the kitchen counter.
And ate them.
All 11 pills. And we have no idea which dog ate them, or if it was a combination of all three. Panic, anxiety, fear – I’m having a panic attack. That medicine was poison.
Saturday afternoon was filled with not one, but THREE puppies rushed to the animal hospital. Two of them (they youngest) ended up having to get their stomachs pumped, IV fluids, charcoal and blood work. Poor Wes got out lucky – they pumped his stomach, realized he hadn’t eaten in the last 24 hours due to his surgery, and send him home to rest. He had a horrible weekend. We ALL had a pretty horrible weekend.
It’s Monday morning. I don’t know if this IUI is going to work this month at all, mainly because of all the stress the last few days. We’ve had our puppies going on six years and nothing like this has ever happened before. Sure, Wes ate an entire colander full of grapes when he was a baby and we were brand new puppy parents, but we’ve never had to deal with something this serious with all three kids. It took everything out of me. I’m an emotional wreck right now.
I’m supposed to start the progesterone tomorrow night, and then go in for a beta test Aug 26. I’m still super crampy from the IUI – I feel like I’ve done a thousand crunches, but that can be pretty normal after an IUI.
I guess we play the waiting game, but I dunno how hopeful I am anymore for this month.
Life has to go on.
My Stork Got Lost 