Twisted Ovaries

The Waiting Game

We are now in the dreaded time period that is called the 2ww-the two week wait. Everything before this seems easy by comparison. Although this is now my third visit into 2ww territory, it’s still something that weighs heavily on my mind. The stress, it’s true, feels somehow less this time but every other thought dwells on wondering if I am pregnant. Thinking about it. Not thinking about it. Thinking about it. Not thinking about it.

It’s enough to drive a person mad.

On Friday we showed up for the embryo transfer, and I was still incredibly sore. I was in a great deal of pain Wednesday and Thursday, despite being kept in longer on Wednesday for a joyous shot of the hardcore painkiller pethadine. I slept several more hours instead of being discharged (and went through not one, but two rounds of hallucinations from the drugs-the general anesthetic resulted in me apparently telling the nurse in the recovery room that I know I have 19 phone messages, please get them to me later. The pethadine allowed me to get angry that nurses were throwing popcorn and Pringles in my hospital room, despite me telling them not to. I don’t remember any of this but it’s typical of my on any kind of medication, and the truth is although I don’t love it enough to invoke unnecessary surgeries, I LOVE the moment that you realize the anesthetic is working. For this reason, I’ve always avoided drugs.) My last fresh IVF cycle I remember incredible pain before the embryo retrieval, in which I couldn't even walk without crying. This time beforehand I had no problem other than slight bloating-it does indeed line up with the idea that I was hyper-stimulated the first time which could have affected my outcomes. I like to think this time went better.

So Friday we still had 7 embryos. In embryo terms you grade them 1-4, I believe. 1 is the cream of the crop and the highest chances of pregnancy. Grade 2 also has a quite high chance of pregnancy, with grade 3 being listed as above average. Grade 4 basically sums up to “go ahead and have a beer” kind of embryo, from what I can understand. I could look up the scientific details of the grading but I am much too tired-the progesterone has me feeling constantly exhausted.

After advice from the RE and Aidan’s strong negative feelings to any possibility of twins, we went with transferring just one embryo, the best of the lot. Although it was a Grade 2 it was only just a Grade 2 instead of a Grade 1 due to a tiny fragment on one wall, but the RE called it “textbook perfect” and we saw a picture of it before it went in, a 4-celled little wonder. It was transferred and we agreed to freeze the rest, although one of our remaining 6 stopped dividing so we now have 5 dreamsicles in deep freeze. The remaining 5 are divided thus-3 of them at 4-cells and of those 3 2 are Grade 2 and one is Grade 3. The other two went on to keep dividing and are 5 cells, one at Grade 2 and one at Grade 3. This all sounds very technical but what the RE’s recommendation was is to consider putting two back, if this fails. To do this, as I understand it, they will have to thaw the lot as not every thaw succeeds.

I know it’s a lot to take on board.

Imagine being the one with hormones, pain killers, anesthetic and great quantities of hopes and dreams who has to process it.

So as of writing this we are now 2dp2dt. This means 2 days past a 2 day transfer, as the embryo had two days to keep dividing and growing. I take a seriously sensitive home pregnancy test on May 12, and between now and then there are twelve days. Twelve more days. Twelve very long days indeed.

Twelve days to either hope continuing or me taking to my bed with serious amounts of alcohol.

Twice a day I have to insert progesterone suppositories into the rear passage, which is far from comfortable but I hope it helps. I imagine the little embryo in there bobbing along to R.E.M. (the good old albums) deciding if it does indeed like that nice thick uterine lining I worked hard for. Aidan doesn’t want to name it as he’s terrified of personalizing something that may decide we’re not the parents we want, but I have a name for the embryo inside my head that I just can't shake.

As we left on Friday, me wearing my lucky socks from Statia and my lucky sweater that had just arrived from Stinkerbell, I was sore, tired, and utterly confused and worried. I turned to the nurse as we left.

“Tell that other woman good luck. I really hope it works out for her.”

She smiled. “You’ve done a good thing, Vanessa. Go home and think about yourself.”

And I smile back and agree. The other woman has 9 whole eggs to work with, but my thoughts are going to be on my one floating around in Innerspace, trying to decide if I’m the mommy they want me to be.

Posted by Vanessa at April 30, 2006 07:59 PM | TrackBack