Day 3: Injections

Leah is terrified of needles. She has been ever since I've known her. When we went to the IVF seminar that the fertility center puts on, she clutched my leg so tightly I had five perfectly round bruises the next morning on the top of my thigh. She cried on the drive back home. She's gotten better over the past four months.

I teach at 7:00 a.m. most days. That means that I wake up at 5:10 or so in order to shower and get my mind together in order to leave by 6:05. I like to keep a tight, regular schedule, which helps when going through a strict regimen that we're doing now. The house is quiet in the morning. The sound of my spoon on the plate when I segment my grapefruit makes me wince. After I wake, Leah takes my pillow and presses it over her face so that she can get another hour's rest.

It takes five minutes to prepare Leah's injections. She takes two every morning (for now). One comes in two ampoules of white powder and one of saline solution. I take the syringe and draw out one CC of the saline and inject it into the first ampoule. The powder dissolves instantly. Then I draw out the solution and inject it into the second ampoule. The powder dissolves a little more gradually in tiny flakes inside the ampoule.

After I pull out the syringe and the solution I change the needle to a smaller gauge and clear any bubbles. I set this one aside and get the second syringe out of the refrigerator. This syringe comes in a pen. I attach the needle and set the pen for the proper dosage--150 units. The top of the pen clicks into place and draws out the air on it's own.

With the two needles in one hand and a alcohol swab in the other I climb the stairs to our bedroom, which is still dark. I turn on the light so I can see what I'm doing and Leah sits up in surprise. She rolls over onto her side and I clean the outside of her thigh with the swab. Her skin is cold from the night, so I'm not sure it's icy for her. She presses the pillow against her face so she can't see the needles, which I am hiding behind my back.

The first needle goes in without a hitch. I'm always surprised with how much pressure it takes to push in the medicine. In the movies, or when I was in the pediatrician's office as a child, it seemed frictionless, but Leah's body always seems to resist the needle as it does its job.

Leah has to explain to me how to use the pen. I thought that it would inject itself when I gave her the shot, but she insisted I had to drive the top of the pen down. It clicks under my thumb, but this needle is shorter than the other one. Then we're done, and I leave for work.

I know that the injections cause Leah a lot of anxiety, but after being off for the past 3 months, it feels good to have some agency with the process again. Leah's been getting blood pulled, taking pills every day, and worrying since late January, but all I have been able to do is wait.

It feels good to have a job again.