Middle-Aged Mary

On Friday, the anxiety over giving myself injections beat the control freak part of my personality into submission and I let Charlie do my injection. He did an excellent job and is now on permanent duty. It has been such a relief not to have to worry about doing it myself, that I have been fairly relaxed all weekend. Now, I am anxious to go to the doctor, get blood drawn and start my stimulation medications. Stimulation medication sound fun and sexy. Like Viagra or Ecstasy..Unfortunately for me, only my ovaries are getting stimulated. The rest of me remains in menopause. I'm not wearing slacks with elastic waistbands and baggy cardigans, and I haven't started going to the salon once a week to get my hair washed and set, but I am having hot flashes and fantasies of 10 grandchildren. Also, have found myself with a strange craving for hard, butterscotch candies...
Anyway, the stim meds are 2 additional shots a day. It's good because it means I am one step closer to pregnancy. It's bad because it sucks to get 3 shots a day, but it should only be for 10-14 days. Then, blood work and ultrasounds every day, and then it's HARVEST TIME!!! I kind of want to come up with an agricultural rhyme, like the one that goes:
By the 4th of July,
the corn should be as high as an elephants eye....

Mine might be more like:
In the final egg development stage,
how many depends on your age,
but after much hormone related rage,
proceed with the harvest,
Using a needle with a large gauge,

Not quite as catchy...I'll keep working on it, but I can't think of anything to rhyme with centimeter or folicle...I am open to suggestions!