I woke up this morning looking like I had swallowed a cantaloupe. Seriously, I could have passed for being 4 months pregnant and I was more uncomfortable than I thought possible. My 5 minute walk to the fertility clinic ended up taking closer to 15 because I was so sore and moving so slowly. As soon as I walked in the door, the girls at the office could tell how lousy I was feeling. The ultrasound confirmed what I was pretty sure I already knew - I had fluid accumulation in my abdomen, about 700mL of it. As soon as the doctor saw my ultrasound, he decided we would need to do a fluid aspiration to relieve some of the pressure and bloating. I was not opposed.
Fast forward to me rescheduling our train home and sitting in my little room in the OR for nearly 5 hours. Finally, shortly after 2pm, the nurses called me into the procedure room. The nurse explained to me that I would be in a really weird and uncomfortable position. Picture this if you can: sitting upright on the table with 4 pillows behind my back with my feet up in the air in stirrups. Lovely picture, isn't it? Now imagine trying to get into that position with 700mL of fluid sitting in your abdomen when it hurts to breathe. It was not a pretty sight. The doctor then informed me that an ultrasound probe with a huge needle attached to it would be inserted into my vagina so they could find the pocket of fluid, poke it and let the fluid drain. Sounds very straight foward, but I underestimated the discomfort that would come with it. I feel silly saying this, but I literally cried because of the pain. The nurses had to hold my knees open so the doctor could see what he was doing. The procedure only took about 10 minutes but it was one of the worst things I'd ever experienced. By the end of it, only 250mL of fluid had drained but the doctor wasn't concerned. As he put it, my body had been trying to get rid of the fluid on its own and the 250mL was all that was left. He reassured me that I would not need to come back for a checkup and that I would feel much more comfortable now.
He was right, the discomfort wasn't AS bad as it had been - at least now I could take a breath without excruciating pain. However, as I should have anticipated, the procedure left me feeling woozy. I had barely made it back to my little OR room and I was hunched over a garbage can, grey in complexion and clammy as hell. Luckily my boyfriend was there with me and he ran and got me a wet cloth for my forehead. I didn't end up being sick but I was sure I was going to vomit what little food I had eaten that day all over the room. As soon as I was steady enough to dress myself, I high tailed it out of there and we hailed a taxi to the train station.
We finally made it home around 7pm (we had to dig my car out of the train station's parking lot... snow up to my waist was not something I was ready to deal with but I had no other choice) and I've been relaxing ever since. I still feel a little nauseous, very tender, and still super constipated (I would give anything to be able to poop), but I feel better than I did before and I'm optimistic that in the days to come, I will slowly be feeling more and more like myself.
So now comes the big question - will I donate again?
It pains me to say this, but no, I do not plan on donating again. I know that I have two other sets of IPs who were interested in me being their donor, but I am just not willing to put myself through that again. This whole proccess has been really tough on my body and mind. Don't get me wrong, I am so happy that I have hopefully been able to help a couple become parents... that's why I wanted to do this in the first place... but I need to put myself first now and do what is best for my own health. It has been a difficult decision to make, but sometimes you have to remind yourself that you can't help everyone. After all, you can't pour from an empty cup.
Cheers.