My postings have been sporadic at best these days, and I apologize. The hubby and I have been cooking, although not quite as often as usual, and we’ve been making some of our favorites rather than trying a lot of new things.
You see, we are going to be having a wee one. A bebe.
We feel pretty lucky. It’s the culmination of more than five years of attempting. We tried everything. We had seemingly every procedure and test under the sun, and even needed a surgery. And in between, we waited.
And then last fall, we were finally at the point where we could attempt in-vitro fertilization (IVF) for the first time. Since the day after Christmas, I’ve had 14 prescriptions, 16 doctor appointments, and 138 shots – most of them in my derriere, administered by the hubby.
The hubby’s a pro. He practices on turkeys.
Seriously, look at that technique. And yes, my syringes are almost that big.
In the end, surprisingly – miraculously – it worked. (And we’re only having one, not eight.) We’ve decided that science is indeed very, very cool.
Now, the down side to all this is that I’m having some issues with food. I haven’t really liked it so much the past few months. On any given day, there might be two or three foods that don’t make me think “blech.” One day it might be fresh pineapple, Milk Duds, and an Arby’s roast beef sandwich. The next day, I will politely decline the hubby’s offer of scampi because I MUST have a chili cheese burrito from Taco Bell.
It’s meal-planning Hell, I say.
My appetite is definitely starting to return, but my issue now is that I don’t like the smell of food. At all. So it’s difficult to cook when, by the time I’m done making the dish, the smell has so turned me off that I can’t even think of ingesting it.
Which is disappointing, because this is kind of my free pass to eat anything, or so I hear.
So I’m hoping that this phase ends soon, because I’m so hungry most days that the hubby is inquiring as to the possibility of hooking me up to a solid-food IV.