Injecting Fertility Medications at Home - You, He or Someone Else Entirely

I follow @TheAFA on twitter and just came across a tweet that led to a useful How-to Article on self-injecting for fertility treatment. It was written by Corey Whelan, Program Director for The American Fertility Association, a non-profit organization that's purpose is to educate the public about reproductive disease, and support families during struggles with infertility and adoption. She is also a prolific author, writing on many topics related to reproductive health. 

Many women going through fertility treatment have to inject themselves daily because their husbands are unavailable when these drugs need to be administered. If you are doing them in your own bottom, you need to twist around like a pretzel, which is why some women do it in their thigh.  Ouch. Then there are the little jabs in the stomach...not quite as bad, but bad enough.  Undoubtedly, there are also men who are afraid to stick the needle into their wife's flesh.

Corey makes a good case for having the male partner administer the infertility medication injections to the female. "This is an opportunity to support and love each other during a trying time in your marriage.  While it probably won't be fun, it often will be funny, and will give you both the opportunity to laugh together, at least after your wife stops cursing at you for dropping the needle, sticking her too fast or too slow, or causing her to hurt.  Most importantly, you will be sharing a difficult task that hopefully will result in the birth of your baby."

It wasn't ever going to be that lovely sharing experience for us.  I have had a life-long fear of needles. Actually, that's not true. My phobia is of anything that pierces or cuts into my skin and flesh.  (Obviously, I have never had pierced ears...my lobes are pristine.)  It goes back to childhood and some particularly traumatic memories of being held down and screaming the neighbourhood down. Dental appointments are not happy either. My husband has even made me appointments without telling me ahead of time, so I would spend less time obsessing, hyperventilating and crying. You would think that all the blood tests I had to have prior to undergoing IVF might have changed that, but it didn't. From the age of 3, my un-flustered daughter has occasionally held my hand for injections. When she was 7 years old, she once kissed me goodbye before school and asked "Are you sure you're going to be okay without me?"

Frankly, I was afraid that, if my husband came toward me with a syringe, my anger, fear and resentment would remain forever in my subconscious and ruin our relationship, our sex life and the stress-free conditions required for a successful conception.  I could swear down the house with my husband, but I knew I would never respond that way to my father. If he told me to "calm down; it will all be over soon," the worst I could do was revert to a 12-year old and capitulate. Sometimes it ended in tears, sometimes with a fatherly hug and other times with an assurance that I did better that time. My husband, not being needed for fancy needlework, returned to England and work, while my parents bore the brunt of my histrionics for several weeks in New Jersey.  Sorry Corey, I didn't even give my husband the opportunity to try sticking me. I have enough self-awareness that I knew our marriage wouldn't survive it. I'm sure it must work for other people.

The article includes a comprehensive guide to injecting fertility medications, from the AFA's library.  I highly recommend reading it a few times, whether you or your husband is administering the injections and keeping it around just in case a 3rd person has to step in as relief pitcher, so to speak. My Dad went away for 3 or 4 days during this period and I recruited 3 friends of friends, each with a background in nursing, to do it in their homes at 8 a.m.  I do remember that the local pharmacist, from whom I ordered my fertility medication, gave me and my father a  lesson in his office and charged $10 a day to administer the injections. On top of the hundreds of dollars I charged every few days there, I didn't feel like paying it.

In hindsight, I think it is a perfectly acceptable arrangement to find a no-nonsense person who, in 5-10 minutes, will safely and quickly administer fertility meds and be on their way, in exchange for a fee. In fact, I approached the owner of a professional nursing-care agency recently to suggest that she add that service, in case one of my fertility coaching clients needs that sort of help. Nurses could make a flying visit on the way to their other assignments.  No doubt, there is another woman out there in the land of assisted conception who is nearly as phobic as I was. 

Did you notice that I used the word "was" there? I have used self-coaching techniques to keep my fright-or-flight response to a minimum and it's gotten progressively better over the past 3 years. Anyway, now it's only a flu jab once a year.

Comments

[Dana]

Thanks for posting a link to that article! It will be helpful next month! ICLW

[Corey Whelan]

Lisa, thank you so much for your perspective! Infertility treatments, in all their glory, land on us all differently. I will never forget the injection my (now ex) husband gave me while watching a football game instead of my rear end! I appreciate your readership.

best,
Corey Whelan

[Tammy Evans]

I loved reading this, I also have a massive needle phobia so my husband is injecting my fertility drugs for me. We have a big cuddle after the morning stabbing is done ha ha.
I did how ever manage to sit up and watch hubby doing my injections this morning and only felt a little bit sick, hopefully I am on my road to be cured of this phobia.

[Lisa]

Hi Tammy,
You are in pretty good shape if you can watch the injection. I never go there!

Take a look at another blog post, 30th March, on how I survived a recent surgical procedure with my phobia: http://yourgreatlife.typepad.com/your_great_life/2010/03/today-i-was-the-client-selfcoaching-for-an-embedded-phobia.html

Best of luck with your cycle. Please come back and let me know how you're getting on.

Lisa