Bikini Waxing: The IVF Special

Whenever I’m about to do any fertility related activity such as an insemination or an in vitro, I always make an extensive to do list. This list usually entails doing things around the apartment (changing the sheets, cleaning the bathroom, etc.) that will make bed rest easier or more comfortable. I also make a movie list or get a new book or even schedule some phone calls with fun people who will keep me laughing while I rest on the couch and hope for some embryos to implant. Really – anything that will keep my mind at ease or ways to make whatever process I’m subjecting myself to more comfortable.

As you may remember from my last IVF (http://the2weekwait.blogspot.com/2010/04/bikini-wax-bruises.html), one of the biggest things on my ‘to do’ list is to get a bikini wax. This is always at the top of the list. I’m a firm believer in when you have company, you should clean up. I’m also sensitive to the fact that unlike with inseminations, you’re knocked out for IVF’s. I have this fear that once you’re unconscious, they all discuss your grooming habits. I realize this is totally insane, but here is what I imagine:

The anesthesiologist would say to me, “Ok Jay, count back from ten. That’s good.” He’d then turn to all the other doctors and say, “I think she’s out everyone.”

The Reproductive Endocrinologist would then say to embryologist and nurses, “Let’s get started. Wow! I guess it’s obvious she’s Italian, huh?”

To which a nurse would respond with, “Jeez, does anyone have some hedge clippers???”

I would hope that the doctors in the room have more important things to discuss but let’s face it, when you’re having your eggs retrieved, your vagina has the starring role. Literally – the curtain comes up and a spotlight is shined directly on it. Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for IVF 2 – The Sequel! Starring… Jay’s Vagina!

Although the results of bikini waxing are always lovely, the whole ordeal is a cruel joke on women who want to be… well… tidy. They are painful, you never get used to them and they are always embarrassing on one level or another. This reminds me of a story a friend of mine shared with regards to getting waxed. She went into a salon and the sign said ‘BIKINI WAXING… $15 – $25’. My friend asked the lady at the salon why the range and the lady explained that the price reflected how much waxing was necessary. So, they went into the back room and my friend took her pants off and got on the table. The woman looked at her and said, “Oh my god! Definitely $25 at least… and cancel my next appointment!”

Today, I’m on treatment day four and I figured I’d better just get this over with and get waxed. I have been dreading this more than I’ve been dreading getting the hormone injections in my stomach but it’s worth it. What I didn’t expect was that my ovaries already feel a bit swollen so having some woman pour hot wax on me and pull the skin tight was a whole new level of suckage. Again though, it’s worth it. I won’t have my p*ssy embarrassing me in the operating room.

Making matters worse, the woman who did the waxing today continued talking on her cell phone while ripping the hair out of my body. Part of me was impressed at her ability to multi-task but part of me couldn’t help but be insulted that my hoo-hah wasn’t as riveting as the conversation she was having with her sister-in-law.

To regain her interest, I casually said that I was cleaning up because I’d be having surgery soon. This got her attention long enough to ask her sister-in-law to hold on a minute. She asked, “What kind of surgery?”

I explained it was for IVF and a lot of people would be seeing the area. Suddenly, waxing my bush became a commentary on her skill as an artist. She hung up the phone, put her glasses on and studied the area as if she was intending on making the hair into a specific shape.

She threw herself into the task like Edward Scissorhands working on one of his many masterpieces. When she took out the tweezers, I said, “Ummm, listen. It just needs to be cleaned up. No one is going to be studying it with a magnify glass.” Still though, she persisted in her precision. Ten minutes later, she was done and had a proud smile on her face. I wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised if she even signed her name somewhere on my thigh directly under her work. She quickly picked up her cell phone and for one second, I seriously thought she was going to snap a picture and send it to her sister-in-law with a note, “Check this out!” but luckily, she was just picking up their conversation where it previously had left off.

Clearly, this woman could appreciate my fear of going into an egg retrieval with an unkempt area. Now, whenever the retrieval happens, I can envision this conversation with total confidence:

The anesthesiologist would say to me, “Ok Jay, count back from ten. That’s good.” He’d then turn to all the other doctors and say, “I think she’s out everyone.”

The Reproductive Endocrinologist would then say to embryologist and nurses, “Let’s get started. Wow! Check this out! It reminds me of my Chihuahua! So smooth and clean!”

To which a nurse would respond with, “I’ve never seen something so precise. Bring the interns in here, they need to see this!“

Well, at least this is what I imagine…