hooray and other musings

The update is in, and it's very good. All 13 embryos still look to be developing nicely. As of this morning, we had:

• 1 12-cell
• 1 10-cell
• 3 9-cell
• 4 8-cell
• 3 7-cell, and
• 1 6-cell

in our little corner of the incubator. According to the nurse that called, anything 8-cell and higher is great for this stage and the other four embryos aren't far behind so we have every reason to hope they will catch up. Transfer was pushed back to Monday at 10:45am.

It sounds like we are entitled to a little optimism that there will be some embryos/blasts suitable to freeze on Monday. I really hope so.

The last week or so has been a lot more challenging than I expected, especially the physical recovery from the ER. I thought I had done a good job preparing myself by asking veterans about their experiences, talking to the doctor, etc. M and I were both blindsided by how difficult each day since the retrieval has been. In fact, I asked the nurse when she called this morning whether I should be concerned that I'm still feeling this poorly. She went over the OHSS checklist with me - again - but said that what I was describing sounded normal and indicated that I still need to be taking Tylenol every 4 hours and focusing on hydration and rest. *sigh* I'm tired of feeling like this.

Wednesday and Thursday were particularly awful. As late as Thursday night, I was telling M that under no circumstances would I consider a repeat performance of IVF. I told her I hoped we ended up with snowbabies because there was no way in hell I'd put my body through this again. By mid-day Friday, I'd cooled to the point of "considering" it, but I have to say, even today, I'd be devastated to have to walk this path again, and not just because that would mean we would still be trying to get pregnant. I guess others have easier times with it, and maybe our second time around would be totally different. The yuckiness of this time make me very hesitant to throw my hat in again, though.

In other news, I'm terrified that a BFN will crush my parents, if it comes to that. When I called my mom with the embryo update this morning, she had to hand the phone off to my dad (first time for everything!) because she got all teary over the good news. After the phone was handed back to her, my dad asked (nervously and through my mom) whether it would be okay for him to tell a friend, and he named a specific family friend that he wanted to tell. (M and I have kept the number of people we've told about ttc to a minimum and we initially asked our parents not to tell anyone else. My mom couldn't do it, which I completely understand, and with our blessing, has talked to a small handful of her closest girlfriends. My dad hasn't told another soul.) I told my mom yes, of course, because I think everyone that is emotionally invested needs someone to talk to about this stuff, but I was secretly disappointed in his choice of confidants. I'm not disappointed because it's a bad choice, I'm disappointed because it is a family friend I'm particularly fond of. It's someone that has known me practically since birth, and someone I've daydreamed about announcing my pregnancy to myself; someone I knew would be beside himself with joy for us. I hinted this to my mom but swore her to secrecy, explaining that I wanted my dad to tell whoever he wanted to tell. Anyway, she sent me an email a little while ago thanking me for letting my dad talk to this person. As I predicted, he (the friend) had been "so happy he could hardly speak" and it was good for my dad's spirit to get to talk to him about it. The problem is, I'm not pregnant yet. The knowledge that he was "so happy he could hardly speak" makes me wonder how my dad pitched our precise situation. I'm worried they think we've already crossed the major hurdles and there is no way I won't get pregnant from this procedure. I'll admit it looks that way on the surface, but as we all know, sometimes it just doesn't work, even when everything seems perfect. I don't mean to judge them for their excitement, and I know it's my own fear and nervousness that is causing me to shake my finger at their enthusiasm. I'm just really dreading the call I'll have to make to them if this doesn't work after all. They're so genuinely thrilled and wrapped up in it all.

Damn it, this stuff is so hard.

But, back to the sunnier side of the street... our embryos are doing great. A couple of friends have been helping us get lots of mileage out of the right-wing "life begins at conception" propaganda by teasing us about our 13 "children". (i.e. "One day you were childless and the next, you're well on your way to becoming the Du.ggars!") Just to clarify, I do not consider our embryos to be our children. I don't have a problem with others who do hold those beliefs, but I do not share them. Still, I am finding myself with unexpected feelings about our little clusters of cells. I'm not proud of our embryos the way I would be of a child, but I feel some derivation or shadow of it, I think. In a way, it is as if they are fighting their own battle right now and it's a battle to become the children we're meant to have. I'm awestruck by the science behind it and proud of the fact that cells that came from myself and our KD are surviving and thriving at the rate that they are. I'm no more changing my fiercely pro-choice politics any time soon than I am worrying about their souls or researching embryo adoption for any we can't use. (Again, my choices - not criticizing any who make different ones.) Still, I do feel something new and tingly about the knowledge that one or more of those little organisms, dividing away in a lab across town, may already be on it's way to becoming a child we will learn and love inside and out. It's just weird.