I woke up at 5:30, mentally rehearsing the approach I'd take to choose an egg donor. I
got though listing my nationalities in my head, and then I started to cry. It
was a pretty long and sad cry, but quiet enough to not wake up my husband. Then
I got up, went down stairs and made tea, and cried again. Then I managed to numb
myself a bit, and didn't cry again until a friend called around 8am. I realize
I am way out in front of myself. I realize that it usually takes at least 2
cycles (or 2.5) to get pregnant with IVF, and I can even bear those odds, in
this cycle. It is the looming fear that nothing will work, not even donor eggs.
That there will be something unexplained about why I can't get pregnant, with my
own eggs, or donor eggs, and the experience of being pregnant, and giving birth
and breastfeeding will be closed to me.
Ok, cry number 4 before 10 am.
I feel such despair about
that, and about not 'making' a baby with my husband. I don't think of myself as the kind of person who necessarily wants to pass my genes on, but my fantasies
have been about what our children would look like, what we would recognize of
ourselves in them, and what would surprise us. And with donor eggs, I get to
see him, but not us. Ya know? Ok, add one more cry to that
Oh, and they give the MMPI
to egg donors at our clinic, so they'd probably be saner than I am.
My husband doesn't want me
to think about this, but it is there, all the time, at the least scratching at
my consciousness, and right now it has knocked down the door. I'm the kind of
person who does her work in front of the actual event, whether or not it
actually comes to pass, so this isn't too unusual for me, but damn I'm
I can't decide how to
cope...be active? Lay on the couch? At the least, I really need to do the
laundry. Down to my back of the drawer underwear, and the small
I just feel sad. Is it Embryo Transfer blues? I love the way I feel after
the trigger shot, in short it is what I imagine
it would feel like to be pregnant. As it wears off, the breasts are tender,but
not as tender, the digestion is odd, but not as refluxy, no need to pee twice a night,
and the sleepiness wears off too.
There is a huge part
of me that just solidly believes this can't work. I know that is ridiculous, and should be disproven by the fact that it works for lots of people, some of whom
I know in real life. But there is this horrible sinking fear that it won't work
for me. That the most I can do is make a 6 day blastocyst in a laboratory, and
then once it's inside of me it is just going to die. I'm not sure where this
darkness comes from today, but it is making a really painful lump in my throat.
I can usually read
my blogs and feel... reassured? Connected? Happy for them? But today I just feel
like the only one at the party wearing jeans and everyone else has on a ball
gown. Just left out, and unsure if I'll ever be invited.
During the last of
my mindfuck cycles last year I had the image of trying to hold smoke in a jar
with a piece of lace. You have the jar, you have the smoke, but not the thing
which can really seal it in.
I know I am just having feelings, and that I don't know anything, but the heartbreak peeks over
the edge, and it doesn't listen to reason or
In good news, my
12lb cat climbed on my chest early this morning and gave my breasts a deep
I was going to update before my transfer, but I had a persistent and pesky computer virus, that my husband was attacking in the hours before we left and I didn't get to it.
Here is the scoop: We did a day 6 transfer of one 'almost hatching' blastocyst, one early blastocyst and one morula. I was very diligent about filling my bladder, and almost had an accident in the waiting room. They let me let off pressure 3 times. Oy.
At this point I'm just not sure what to expect, or how to survail my body for clues. All of the extra hormones are making my breasts sore, and my digestion a bit slow.
Lets hope its a long damn sleep. The phone rang earlier and I was petrified that it was the clinic
calling to say they'd all died, and there was no need to come in.
Alas, it was just a friend. But then about 10 minutes into typing this post, the clinic called. I just about fumble fuck.ed the phone trying to answer it. I blurted out to the doctor "It can't be good that you're calling." and he quickly assured me that that wasn't the case. He called to say they were recommending a 6 day transfer. We have 4 on the road to being blastocycsts, 3 morulas and one early blastocyst. He gave us the option of doing the transfer today, or tomorrow. We haggled and wrangled with one another. And in our frantic googling, I managed to get a computer virus! Thank goodness my husband is in the know and cleaned it all up. Oy.) The danger is that none make it to blastocyst, or only 1 or two do, or god only knows what. In the end we decided to go with their recommendations, with me frantically calculating the heartbreak quotient of each options.
I've just been wandering around the house, unable to eat, or make any decisions about the littlest things. I decided to watch What N.ot to We.ar and my stupid cheap ass DVR hadn't recorded the new one! Argh.
About an hour ago a friend called and offered to do anything we needed, and just the offer brought me to tears. This whole thing is so painful, even when nothing bad is actually happening. I'm going to just make it through today, and hope that we got something to transfer in the morning.
Yesterday afternoon I got a call from our lovely IVF nurse who said that she didn't have much information, but they did want to schedule me for a 3 day transfer. The feeling I had inside was a clunk. It felt like the time my friends and I were slowly driving down an unfamiliar street in New England and her tie rod broke. The car just went 'clunk' and sank on one corner. That is how I felt when I heard that news yesterday. My husband had to talk to the doctor because I was with a client. The news wasn't as terrible as I feared, but not as good as I wished for.
It seems that the Wednesday morning check of the emby's revealed that they were growing a bit slowly, but that they were, for the most part grade 1. They told us they'd call this morning and confirm if we were going to go ahead with the 3 day transfer or wait for day 5. Painfully enough, the news this morning was inconclusive. There were 4 that had picked up the pace, and some that had a lot of cells, but were not as high quality. Dr Calm consulted with the embryologist and called back to say that were pushing through to day 5. Ack. I just really wanted to have less angst, but alas, that is not to be my lot, eh?
My husband took full responsibility for the late growing style of the embryo's: he said it was his genes influencing them to think they could get one more thing done before they divided again. Sweet man.
The plan for now is to do the transfer on Day 5 (or 6 if they aren't fully blastocysts). I just hope we don't lose all of them. Oy. In a way it is a huge relief to have this going on outside of my body. The mystery aspect of all of this was killing me slowly.
I ahve been dreading pro.jesterone in oil (PIO) shots since I happened upon the intricicies of IVF. Essentially, your partern, or good friend if you doing it alone, puts a big honkin needle in your tender hip flesh and tries not to hit your sciatic nerve. My dear husand did his first PIO on Monday night,and it was a raging sucess, no sensation at any point. I felt like I was home free. PIO on Tuesday, not so much. It didn't hurt, but he got sort of flumoxed with the hand swapping (strech skin, insert needle, pull back on plunger to check for blood etc), and things were a little more uncomfortable afterward. Still it wasn't too bad during, but there has been a constant mild ache in my hip and leg. On the whole, not too bad, but I'm hoping to have Monday nights experience all over again, because tonight is lefty's turn (left hip that is).
Wouldn't it be nice if they gave you daily emby updates? I know that there might not be much to report, but an emby cam with embryologist commentary (encouraging commentary) would be really nice.
The egg retrieval was yesterday morning at 8am. We were running late, in my opinion, which means we slammed into the parking lot at 7:14am. Ahem. I dislike being late. Husband dear, has a different impression of what 'late' means. We got there, I put on the funny paper gown, with heating vents built in (want that for the couch, thankyouverymuch), and then they put the IV in my arm, lay me on the funny table, and then I went sleepy bye. When I woke up I just wanted to go back to sleep. Anesthetized sleep is so delicious. I woke up fully, felt a little shaky, drank some apple juice and then got the exciting news: 17 eggs retrieved, none looked like raisins. What I figured out from that was that more than the 10 I'd been counting on might be mature. WHOOOOOOOHOOOOOO.
I spent the rest of the afternoon drifting on the couch, eating chicken soup and slugging down gator.aid. The pain got worse throughout the afternoon, but ty.lenol was enough to keep it at bay. The dreaded PIO shot loomed at 9pm, but I swear I didn't feel a thing. It probably helps that our house is pretty warm so the oil wasn't thick, and my husband pused the plunger down really slowly. Hopefully they won't get worse.
We just got the call that 14 out of the 17 eggs fertilized!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Can you tell I'm excited? I know that it doesn't guarantee that they'll all make it to blast stage, or that any transferred will implant, but the lingering fear, the only thing we haven't been able to know much about was my eggs. So this feels like a huge relief. We're taking it one procedure at a time over here. Preparing ourselves for whatever reality dishes up, but at least we feel optimistic. Whew.
I triggered last night in a restaurant bathroom at precisely 8pm. I have a tiny purple bruise to mark the spot. My belly was inflating and deflating for about an hour afterward, probably just a coincidence, but odd. My husband looked over at me in my pseudo maternity dress, and was a bit freaked out at the size of my belly. Anyhoo, today it is actually a little less distended, but much more painful to walk around, bend, be driven over potholes and the like.
I sat very still for an hour and half at my mother's for a brunch, and then came home and laid on the couch from 12 to 6. The brunch was heavy on sugar, so I sent my husband out for burritos. I was not sure that this was a good idea, in fact, I changed my order to enchiladas at one point, but the creamy comfort of a burriot was calling to me. However, the resulting gastric expression is not particularly well suited to the swollen state of my ovaries. Yet my tummy is happy and my blood sugar is stabilized.
This is the day I've been dreading the most. I have this horrible fear that I will ovulate before the retrieval and all will be lost. My doctor said that is the most common pre-retrieval nightmare. So at least I'm average, but I will feel much better when I find out that there were some eggs in those follicles.
I suppose I should have been more specific: hell bent for egg retrieval and a nice cushy lining.
The est.race hasn't plumped up the lining yet, but the extra day of stims did push the 14's into the mature group. There are actually 11 mature, but I think the big one (21 yesterday 25 today) will be post mature. But honestly, whose gonna complain about the chance of there being 10 eggs?
I'm going to ask the doctor if I can put the estr.ace by cooch instead of by the mouth. Even if it isn't statistically better, it would make me feel like I was doing more.
Smart money is on triggering tonight, writhing in agony tomorrow, and retrieval on Monday.
I'm off to stock up on movies, dumb novels and a dress to wear to a party tonight that doesn't impinge on my tender waist. Oh, in other news, I went to get a bigger bra yesterday: 34G. Yeah, that is a really ridiculous size. I don't look like what I'd expect a G to look like,but it is the equivalent of a 36 DD which doesn't sound quite so daunting, or silly.
All systems are go. Things are still moving along nicely.E2 at 3120, lining at 6.7. They had me start the estr.ace today, just to plump up the old lineroo. Eggies: One at 21, 3 between 16 & 20, and 4 at 14. Dr. Hyper (Dr Calm is at her daughter's college graduation! Sigh) wants to see if we can make the most of the 14's. So, one more day with the needles. 2 more days with wanding, and the retrieval will most likely be monday.