We Have Embryo's...

I woke up this morning feeling only slightly better than yesterday. Which isn't saying much. My retrieval was scheduled at 11am, but Dr. 3 was running behind. They had arranged my procedure to be the last of the morning because I had the most follicles of their patients also scheduled for the day. 17-18 that they could see. They wheeled me back to the  - what is that? an OR? - Whatever the name, it was a little surreal, let's just say that. I proceeded to lay on the table in the padded stirrups for what felt like an eternity while the nurse babbled on about my husbands chosen profession. In reality it was only about 25 minutes, and I was long gone within about a minute and a half of Dr. 3 gracing us with his presence. Afterward they managed to wake me up just before transferring me from the table to a gurney and I could hear the doctor telling me it had taken less than 20 minutes and that I'd done very well. I remember asking how many eggs they got, but he said he wasn't sure yet. Still, I persisted "lots?"... "Did you get lots of eggs?" And I'm pretty sure I remember them laughing at me.


The next thing I knew I woke up crying in recovery and asking the nurse for Brian. She gave me a heating pad for my abdomen and shot of a pain killer in my IV.  I remember several people asking me why I was crying, and to tell you the truth I'm not sure I could narrow it down to one specific thing. I felt relieved that this part was over. I felt grateful to see my husband standing over me with concern. But I also felt violated by the fact that I even had to go to these lengths to achieve such a common human experience. Parenthood. And suddenly none of what I was doing there made any sense.  How do blood draws, and stabbing myself in the stomach repeatedly with fine gauge needles, and procedures that require general anesthetic, and lab technicians, and petrie dishes... how does all this lead to motherhood? It felt so unnatural. Unfair.


But maybe that was just the pain talking. Because my mood quickly elevated from there. They gave me a box of apple juice, and propped me up so that I could feel a little more normal. Shortly after that I felt decent enough to change back in to non-assless clothes, and before we knew it Dr. 3 came in to sit down with us. First he reviewed the follow up "NK Assay" blood panel they had taken earlier in the week. Great news: The Humira and Dexamethasone had done their jobs and all of my levels were normal. This meant that I wouldn't be required to do the ($700 per session) Intralipid infusion until after a positive pregnancy test. The plan they initially set for me required one at the retrieval, one after the transfer and then every few weeks after positive betas. Whew, deep breath. Then he told us they got 19 eggs. Nineteen... We were  thrilled. 


I spent the rest of the day in bed with my new best friend Mr. Heating Pad. Seriously, if you have a retrieval pending be sure to pick one of these bad boys up. Brian took great care of me, getting up and down, going back and forth with my every whim. Dr. 3 told us that we'd likely get a call by "lunch-time" today with our fertilization report, but they tortured us until a little after 1pm. Out of the 19 retrieved, 11 were mature, and 9 fertilized normally. That's an 82% fertilization rate. Which is pretty good. Which is why I feel like a total asshole for being a bit disappointed that we didn't have more mature eggs. But such is the life of a PCOS gal. We can produce quantity, but not always quality. Intellectually I know that nine embryo's is good.  And I will keep telling myself that. NINE IS GOOD. But my poor little infertile heart wanted more. More mature, more to choose from, more to freeze. I know we're lucky to have this many and to have even gotten this far, so I'm going to end it on that. Nine is good, and we're lucky.


I won't hear anymore about the status of our embies until Thursday, when we go in for our transfer.  Please keep our little ones in your thoughts until then. Thanks again for all of your support.