IVF stim cycle #2: trigger shot day
I just injected myself with two doses of Decapeptyl – the infamous ovulation trigger shot.
The nurse’s instructions couldn’t have been clearer: 8:45pm SHARP.
So there I was, standing at the edge of my bed, syringe in one hand, the other prepped and ready, eyes locked on the clock at 8:44pm, waiting for the digit to tick over.
I’d already jabbed myself with Gonal-F, Orgalutran, and Lurveris earlier that evening. Now, two more to finish the cocktail and release the egg landslide.
Pro tip: the longer you ice your belly, the less it stings. Mine was nice and frosty.
8:45pm. Ready. Go.
When the trigger triggers you
The thing about the trigger shot, for me, is that it doesn’t just trigger ovulation – it triggers anxiety too. I feel manic. I seem manic. I have a thousand thoughts a minute, my ideas balloon, and the world can’t keep up.
The time between the trigger and the procedure (egg collection or embryo transfer) is my red zone. I’ve learned to take time off work during this window. It’s not a luxury – it’s risk management.
And this time? Taking the day off made all the difference.
A slow, stress-free morning. Leisurely daycare drop-off. A solo coffee at my favourite café. Then I drove to Bondi Beach just to sit and stare at the sea.
That deep, rolling blue. The waves crashing at the edges of my ears. The seaside air. It quiets the chaos.
I can’t stress enough how important self-care is, especially if you’re like me, and tend to power on even when the tank’s flashing red. It took getting a smartwatch and constant high-heart-rate alerts for me to realise I don’t understand when I’m stressed. The tension builds slowly, quietly, until it’s boiling over the edges. For reasons I still don't fully understand, I seem to have a high tolerance for stress – and I'm not entirely sure that's a good thing.
Right now. Am I tired? Absolutely.
Are the little things bugging me? You betcha.
But today, I let myself hide.
First, in the comforting anonymity of a sea of strangers – joggers, surfers, tanned backpackers.
Later, in the dark quiet of my bedroom, curtains drawn, world off.
Sometimes, strength looks like showing up.
Sometimes, it looks like disappearing for a while.
Today, it looked like both.
Follicle Report Card
Because numbers can be enlightening – but everyone is different.
Monday’s scan (Day 10):
Uterine lining: 7mm
Left ovary: 16, 13, 12, 12, 8, 7, 7
Right ovary: 19, 17, 16, 15, 10, 9
Two days later (Day 12):
Uterine lining: 10mm
12 nice-looking follicles — six on each side
Final sizes: Ranging from 20–16
Big. Juicy. May they be full of viable eggs.
But this is where IVF starts to get tricky because I can feel the hope brewing and this part hit me hard last time. I wasn’t prepared for the…
Reality Check: The knock-out rounds
The biggest lesson I’ve learnt? The more eggs you have, the younger you are when you start, the better your odds (generally) – because there are multiple knock-out rounds ahead.
Just because you have follicles doesn’t mean you’ll get eggs
Just because you get eggs doesn’t mean they’ll be mature
Just because they’re mature doesn’t mean they’ll fertilise
Just because they fertilise doesn’t mean they’ll make it to biopsy stage
Just because they’re biopsied doesn’t mean they’ll be genetically viable
And just because you transfer a day 5 embryo doesn’t mean it will become a pregnancy
It’s a knock-out round at every stage.
Last time?
5 eggs → 4 fertilised → 1 made it to day 5 + a straggler joined on day 6
PGT-A Genetic testing knocked out the straggler
1 embryo made it through
… and it didn’t take.
What I did differently this time
You never know how you'll react to the hormones – or to the disappointment rollercoaster that can feel like one crushing phone call after another. And that emotional whiplash takes a toll.
So here’s what I changed:
1. Told work. Asked for what I needed. Gave regular updates.
It’s better to set expectations early than scramble through a last-minute meltdown. I’ve learned to be upfront. It helps.
2. Don’t do IVF while sick.
Winter + toddler daycare = virus roulette.
Last cycle, I was unwell for 3.5 months. Eventually, I took time off to recover and retreated to my childhood home for support.
Lesson learned: this spring–summer-autumn sport that needs a village.
3. Asked for support at home.
If you usually split things 50:50, let it go. IVF throws everything off balance.
With your support network, be open and clear about what you need. Extra hugs. Extra patience. Extra check-ins.
4. Picked an earlier injection time.
Ice first, jab second. Way less painful than a blood test.
Timing matters too. Last round I chose 8pm – not ideal for an early riser.
This time? 5:45pm. Shots done, night still free.
Movies, anyone?
While that’s what works for me, it’s different for everyone. Some people breeze through. Others find it tough. Hopefully this helps you understand what it can be like, so you can formulate a plan that works best for you.
Next Up: Egg collection & fertilisation
The Life Fertility Clinic in Potts Point has been absolutely wonderful – they’ve organised everything, which is exactly what’s needed. Instructions for egg collection day?
Fast from midnight.
Arrive at 7:15am.
Egg Collection Surgery at 8:45am.
RaRa’s on sperm duty at 9:45am – the most glamorous of tasks in the most clinical of rooms.
Then it’s over to our friendly embryologist to set the mood for mixing life.
Definitely a Kings of Leon moment. Because nothing says conception quite like “Sex on Fire” in a brightly lit lab.
