I am Chuck Norris. Well not really, but according to some woman’s post about infertility I am. The post was about intramuscular shots during IVF and how women who give them to themselves are the Chuck Norris of infertility patients, so I guess that makes me Chuck Norris.

 

It all started during my first round of IUI and my first hcG trigger shot. During IUI, you are supposed to do the hcG injection at a very specific time. The idea is that you trigger ovulation with the shot so when you go in for the IUI procedure a set number of hours later the egg will have triggered and will be sitting in the uterus waiting for fertilization. 

 

As I have done with all of my fertility procedures and treatments, I just followed the instructions and did as I was told. A nurse drew an “X” on my butt cheek to mark the spot of my injection and I left the office with a fairly large needle. I really didn’t think much of it and assumed it would be easy to enlist Adam’s help since reaching your own buttocks is not that easy. Plus, the nurse had advised that it would hurt less if my partner gave me the shot because he can do it quickly at the proper angle, which will allow for less bleeding and bruising. 

 

The alarm on my phone was set for 10 and 5 minutes prior to the injection time as well as the minutes leading up to the exact time that the injection needed to occur. As the first alarm went off, I began to prepare what we needed for the injection. I then explained to Adam what he needed to do and showed him the needle. This is the exact moment when I learned that my husband is afraid of needles, which was a new revelation despite having known him for years and thinking we had shared all of our fears with one another. His eyes narrowed, and his face turned a strange shade of gray. “That’s a really big needle,” “I don’t think I can do that to you” and “I hate needles” were all he could say. 

 

At this point, my phone began to give the additional alarms signaling that the time was near. I told Adam that we had no other option and we were running out of time. He indicated that he might be able to do it, but his face definitely said otherwise. So as the last alarm went off, I picked up the needle, walked into the bathroom, shut the door, and prepared to give the shot to myself. Meanwhile, Adam stood outside saying he could do it if he had to, but hopefully I would pull it off. So I did. I administered my own injection.

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