Nothing Says "I Love You" Like a Shot in the Arse
8 Comments posted by Kristi on Saturday, February 16, 2008 at 7:11 AM
The topic of whether or not the hubs would be willing to inject me in the arse with a 6-inch needle for months at a time wasn't part of our dialogue when we were contemplating marriage.
We covered the basics: Whether each of us would be willing to move across the country if the other had a job opportunity there. Whether we wanted to buy or build. When we wanted to have children (Ha-Ha).
But oddly enough, the topic of arse injections never came up.
This morning I received a belated Valentine's Day present in the form of a large needle plunged into my person by my husband. My once-every-three-days estrogen injections have started and have joined forces with my daily Lupon shots to make for a very pleasant wakeup call. And okay, so it wasn't a 6-inch needle, but it sure looks that long, and feels that long when it's your behind that's the target.
The hubs is a veteran at giving arse injections. After all, it's through a series of injections (arse and thigh), pills, vaginal suppositories, ultrasound monitoring, an egg retrieval, and an embryo transfer that were were blessed with the first bundle of joy.
But given that the last injection he administered was in January of 2006, the hubs was a little rusty. He was nervous (as was I) and before shooting me up, we quickly Googled some diagrams of intramuscular arse injection sites so he would have a good idea of where to aim (and where not to). Inaccuracy can land you in a bid ole' world of hurt, trust me.
I'd like to think that if the situation was reversed, I could easily inject him. And let's face it, there are those days when the thought of inflicting a little pain would be mighty appealing.
But the truth is, I'm not sure I could do it. I have a long history with needles, IVs, and the like. I was a sick kid, and spent a great deal of my childhood in hospitals. I'm very used to being "the patient." What I'm not accustomed to is being "the nurse."
Of course, this is for a good cause. The best cause, really, and if it was the hubs that stood the chance of getting knocked up as a result of our infertility treatments, I would have to step up to the plate.
Secretly, though. I'm glad it's not me. As crazy as it sounds, I would rather "receive" than "give" in this situation (well, in most situations really, as I am inheretly selfish at my core). I have to trust that he won't plunge the needle into an artery, but he has to plunge the needle into my arse.
It's an odd little morning ritual. And while I'd much prefer to start the day reading the paper in bed with two mugs of coffee between us, it's a small sacrifice for the gift that might be waiting for us one month from tomorrow.
We covered the basics: Whether each of us would be willing to move across the country if the other had a job opportunity there. Whether we wanted to buy or build. When we wanted to have children (Ha-Ha).
But oddly enough, the topic of arse injections never came up.
This morning I received a belated Valentine's Day present in the form of a large needle plunged into my person by my husband. My once-every-three-days estrogen injections have started and have joined forces with my daily Lupon shots to make for a very pleasant wakeup call. And okay, so it wasn't a 6-inch needle, but it sure looks that long, and feels that long when it's your behind that's the target.
The hubs is a veteran at giving arse injections. After all, it's through a series of injections (arse and thigh), pills, vaginal suppositories, ultrasound monitoring, an egg retrieval, and an embryo transfer that were were blessed with the first bundle of joy.
But given that the last injection he administered was in January of 2006, the hubs was a little rusty. He was nervous (as was I) and before shooting me up, we quickly Googled some diagrams of intramuscular arse injection sites so he would have a good idea of where to aim (and where not to). Inaccuracy can land you in a bid ole' world of hurt, trust me.
I'd like to think that if the situation was reversed, I could easily inject him. And let's face it, there are those days when the thought of inflicting a little pain would be mighty appealing.
But the truth is, I'm not sure I could do it. I have a long history with needles, IVs, and the like. I was a sick kid, and spent a great deal of my childhood in hospitals. I'm very used to being "the patient." What I'm not accustomed to is being "the nurse."
Of course, this is for a good cause. The best cause, really, and if it was the hubs that stood the chance of getting knocked up as a result of our infertility treatments, I would have to step up to the plate.
Secretly, though. I'm glad it's not me. As crazy as it sounds, I would rather "receive" than "give" in this situation (well, in most situations really, as I am inheretly selfish at my core). I have to trust that he won't plunge the needle into an artery, but he has to plunge the needle into my arse.
It's an odd little morning ritual. And while I'd much prefer to start the day reading the paper in bed with two mugs of coffee between us, it's a small sacrifice for the gift that might be waiting for us one month from tomorrow.
Nothing says love like a hypodermic needle...
Thinking of you guys and hoping for agreeable eggs, sperm and uterus. Go Team!
:)
I don't think I would like to do it either... my hubby is such a wuss when it comes to needles and shots!
Here's hoping for great news next month!
I would much rather receive than give, too. I know Ian wouldn't be able to do it. He fainted when I received the epidural during Hannah's birth!
Ahh true love :)
Ahh, that's the most romantic story I've read yet! Forget about roses and candy--a shot in the arse is now my idea of true love. And think of the ultimate pay-off, a brother or sister for Isabella. :):).
ouch. Maybe they should make this part of pre-marital counseling? :)
Woa. My husband wouldn't be able to handle it. He's soooo squeamish. I would defintely be the better candidate to give on that one.
Jeremy had to do my inslin shots when i was pregnant because I couldn't hold my boobs out of the way, pinch the skin, and stab myself all at once lol... and now he gets to do b12 shots lol... from tummy to butt... oh what fun! Just hope I don't fart on him lol...