We have five snowbabies.
FIVE.
Five frozen blasts, all cryopreserved on day 6, just waiting for us to use them as we see fit.
I am on top of the world. Just knowing that we can try 2-3 more times without another egg retrieval is the hugest weight off my shoulders. Also, what does it say about the quality of the two we transferred that even after they skimmed the best two off the top, we still had five little troopers make it to a day 6 freeze?! Those little superstars we transferred come from good stock, apparently.
When I got the call from the clinic today, my first thought was "Hey, now this cycle might actually work after all!" It was the first time I've honestly thought that and believed it, and it was awesome.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
staring out at a loooong 2 weeks
Apparently my clinic subscribes to the same sadistic philosophy as vee and jay’s. My beta is scheduled for July 7th. WTF! I’m definitely not going to make it that far. I’m hoping to hold out until the 4th because I’m terrified of getting a negative test result and having to go to work the same day. The 4th starts a 4-day holiday weekend for me so I’ll have plenty of time to celebrate or mourn before having to face unknowing clients and co-workers again.
I’ll be impressed if I make it to the 4th, to be honest. I’ve been a “test early and often” girl since the beginning. The 4th will be 11 days past a 5-day transfer, so kind of like 16dpi. There’s no way the devil on my shoulder will let me go that long without a little POAS action.
The situation with my parents has gone from bad to worse. They are fully considering this to be a done deal. My dad asked (in complete seriousness) whether I was officially pregnant now that the transfer was complete. When I told him no, he asked “at what stage” I start to be considered pregnant. My answer? Um, when I actually AM pregnant? Their enthusiasm is so sweet and I’m trying to resist the pull I feel to be extra-pessimistic to balance them out. I find myself bristling because I know that if this works, they’re going to be exalting their intuition because they “knew it all along” and I’m going to feel defensive that they don’t realize what a freaking coincidence – no, miracle - it still is that it worked, even after all pre-transfer signs were good.
But then I stop myself. I mean, seriously? Does it matter whether they get excited now or later? I know what the statistics are. I know what that means for our chances. I’m still doing what I need to do to prepare myself, and I've tried to arm them with the information they need to prepare themselves as well. If this is how they choose to handle it, so be it. I should be so lucky to get a BFP so I have to hear them say they told me so. If that is the greatest of my concerns, I’ll be living a charmed life indeed.
I’ll be impressed if I make it to the 4th, to be honest. I’ve been a “test early and often” girl since the beginning. The 4th will be 11 days past a 5-day transfer, so kind of like 16dpi. There’s no way the devil on my shoulder will let me go that long without a little POAS action.
The situation with my parents has gone from bad to worse. They are fully considering this to be a done deal. My dad asked (in complete seriousness) whether I was officially pregnant now that the transfer was complete. When I told him no, he asked “at what stage” I start to be considered pregnant. My answer? Um, when I actually AM pregnant? Their enthusiasm is so sweet and I’m trying to resist the pull I feel to be extra-pessimistic to balance them out. I find myself bristling because I know that if this works, they’re going to be exalting their intuition because they “knew it all along” and I’m going to feel defensive that they don’t realize what a freaking coincidence – no, miracle - it still is that it worked, even after all pre-transfer signs were good.
But then I stop myself. I mean, seriously? Does it matter whether they get excited now or later? I know what the statistics are. I know what that means for our chances. I’m still doing what I need to do to prepare myself, and I've tried to arm them with the information they need to prepare themselves as well. If this is how they choose to handle it, so be it. I should be so lucky to get a BFP so I have to hear them say they told me so. If that is the greatest of my concerns, I’ll be living a charmed life indeed.
Monday, June 23, 2008
back from ET
We transferred 2 healthy blasts. I'll post pics later. We won't know about snowbabies until the end of the week. I have lots more to write about how everything went, but I'm supposed to be lying down so it'll have to wait. Just wanted to post a quick update since I know several of you are checking in on us religiously!
Sunday, June 22, 2008
pre-transfer jitters
I'm bouncy tonight. I don't know why I'm so nervous for tomorrow's transfer. I know that it will be the easiest part of the whole thing, physically. I guess I'm anxious about what will come next. After tomorrow, we don't have any more blood tests or ultrasounds or daily calls from the clinic. It's likely we won't hear a peep from them until our beta in two weeks. Up until now, I've never had to look farther than a couple of days into the future to see our next step. After tomorrow, we're on our own for a while. Also, the next chute/ladder we will hit will be the big one. There won't be any waiting a couple more days or adjusting a dosage to improve the situation. If the outcome is not good, it'll just be a BFN. Game over.
Yikes.
I'm a little nervous about what shape the embies will be in tomorrow. Everything has rocked so far and I know it's okay to be optimistic. I also know that days 3-5 are tougher than days 1-3 and there's a good chance we may have lost some since our last update. I'm just hoping we have two good blasts to transfer and a couple more to freeze. Fingers are tightly crossed.
Thanks so much to everyone who has commented and emailed. I'm trying to do the same in return but I still feel so lousy! The mere thought of food made me nauseated today. I'm doing a good job of staying hydrated and rested, and I still don't have any of the big scary OHSS symptoms, but things definitely aren't quite right.
I'll post tomorrow to let you know how the transfer goes. Thanks again for all of your support and positive thoughts!
Yikes.
I'm a little nervous about what shape the embies will be in tomorrow. Everything has rocked so far and I know it's okay to be optimistic. I also know that days 3-5 are tougher than days 1-3 and there's a good chance we may have lost some since our last update. I'm just hoping we have two good blasts to transfer and a couple more to freeze. Fingers are tightly crossed.
Thanks so much to everyone who has commented and emailed. I'm trying to do the same in return but I still feel so lousy! The mere thought of food made me nauseated today. I'm doing a good job of staying hydrated and rested, and I still don't have any of the big scary OHSS symptoms, but things definitely aren't quite right.
I'll post tomorrow to let you know how the transfer goes. Thanks again for all of your support and positive thoughts!
Saturday, June 21, 2008
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:
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.
- 1 12-cell
- 1 10-cell
- 3 9-cell
- 4 8-cell
- 3 7-cell, and
- 1 6-cell
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.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
fertilization report is in... at last!!
After several hours of sitting around staring at my phone, tapping my feet, and trying to ward off every "worst case scenario" that was clawing its way into my head, the call is in and the news is good.
Turns out they retreived a total of 21 eggs yesterday, 19 of which were deemed mature. They did ICSI on 9 and 6 of those fertilized, and natural fertilization on the other 10, 7 of which fertilized. So, we have 13 little embies growing in an incubator as I type!
We're tentatively scheduled for a 3-day transfer on Saturday but they will call us Saturday morning to push us back to a 5-day transfer if everyone is still developing at a satisfactory rate.
We are so relieved. Thanks again to everyone who has followed our journey and kept our spirits up. Next update will be Saturday morning!
Turns out they retreived a total of 21 eggs yesterday, 19 of which were deemed mature. They did ICSI on 9 and 6 of those fertilized, and natural fertilization on the other 10, 7 of which fertilized. So, we have 13 little embies growing in an incubator as I type!
We're tentatively scheduled for a 3-day transfer on Saturday but they will call us Saturday morning to push us back to a 5-day transfer if everyone is still developing at a satisfactory rate.
We are so relieved. Thanks again to everyone who has followed our journey and kept our spirits up. Next update will be Saturday morning!
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
the big two-oh
We are the proud owners of 20 retrieved eggs.
ER went smoothly. The last thing I remember was clearly and effortlessly reading a little sticker on the operating room light fixture over my head, and then I was back in the recovery room. I was a little crampy and a little queasy when we left, but overall, not too bad. Then, while I was sleeping, I missed a tylenol dosing time and (apparently) the lingering effects of my anaesthesia wore off because now I am s-o-r-e. I just woke up and took some more tylenol and hopefully it will start doing it's thing shortly.
I'll post again when the fertilization report comes in - probably won't be until late tomorrow afternoon/early evening.
Thanks to everyone who held us in their thoughts today. The hardest part is finally behind us!
ER went smoothly. The last thing I remember was clearly and effortlessly reading a little sticker on the operating room light fixture over my head, and then I was back in the recovery room. I was a little crampy and a little queasy when we left, but overall, not too bad. Then, while I was sleeping, I missed a tylenol dosing time and (apparently) the lingering effects of my anaesthesia wore off because now I am s-o-r-e. I just woke up and took some more tylenol and hopefully it will start doing it's thing shortly.
I'll post again when the fertilization report comes in - probably won't be until late tomorrow afternoon/early evening.
Thanks to everyone who held us in their thoughts today. The hardest part is finally behind us!
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
peeking in
Just a quick post to say I'm feeling a little better today. All of my resting and protein-ing and hydrating since yesterday seem to have made a difference, so I'm headed back to the couch momentarily to keep doing more of the same.
Surgery is at 7:30am tomorrow. I'll post an update as soon as I'm back on my feet.
Thank you all SO much for all of the well wishes and positive energy and good vibes. It really means a lot. Smooches to my BFF, inlocoparentis, whose post today reminds me that even when the deck feels stacked against me, I am lucky because I have the best friends in the whole world.
Surgery is at 7:30am tomorrow. I'll post an update as soon as I'm back on my feet.
Thank you all SO much for all of the well wishes and positive energy and good vibes. It really means a lot. Smooches to my BFF, inlocoparentis, whose post today reminds me that even when the deck feels stacked against me, I am lucky because I have the best friends in the whole world.
Monday, June 16, 2008
we're on deck
I just got the call from my clinic. My ER is scheduled for Wednesday morning.
I have 27 follicles, none of which are quite to the size they like to see before triggering, but my E2 is 3727 which is apparently cause for concern. The nurse did a thorough screening for OHSS symptoms and gave me the medical exchange number and a list of things to watch out for. I'm doing my best not to freak out, but I'm quite the hypochondriac, so there's lots of room for improvement. They're letting me go ahead and trigger tonight and I don't think they'd let me do that if they were overly worried about it.
I didn't have the specific symptoms she asked about (dramatic weight gain, infrequent urination, shortness of breath) but I generally feel like crap - nausea, headache, fatigue - and I have terrible heartburn. My ovaries are killing me and I'm beyond bloated, but the nurse assures me those things are normal.
I'm trying to figure out what to do about work tomorrow. On one hand, it seems like I should be taking it easy and my schedule at work tomorrow won't allow for that. Also, if I'm home, I can do dorky things like measure my urine output and weigh myself every 10 minutes if I want to. On the other hand, I'd be home alone all day and, historically, me being left to my own devices for extended periods does not play well with my medical paranoia. I guess I'll check in with M and see what she thinks.
I have 27 follicles, none of which are quite to the size they like to see before triggering, but my E2 is 3727 which is apparently cause for concern. The nurse did a thorough screening for OHSS symptoms and gave me the medical exchange number and a list of things to watch out for. I'm doing my best not to freak out, but I'm quite the hypochondriac, so there's lots of room for improvement. They're letting me go ahead and trigger tonight and I don't think they'd let me do that if they were overly worried about it.
I didn't have the specific symptoms she asked about (dramatic weight gain, infrequent urination, shortness of breath) but I generally feel like crap - nausea, headache, fatigue - and I have terrible heartburn. My ovaries are killing me and I'm beyond bloated, but the nurse assures me those things are normal.
I'm trying to figure out what to do about work tomorrow. On one hand, it seems like I should be taking it easy and my schedule at work tomorrow won't allow for that. Also, if I'm home, I can do dorky things like measure my urine output and weigh myself every 10 minutes if I want to. On the other hand, I'd be home alone all day and, historically, me being left to my own devices for extended periods does not play well with my medical paranoia. I guess I'll check in with M and see what she thinks.
Saturday, June 14, 2008
stim report: day 9
I'm running late for a surprise party, but here's the quick update...
E2: 1492
11 follies over 10mm on right
12 follies over 10mm on left
Follistim reduced to 125 units
next step is another stick/scan on Monday morning
E2: 1492
11 follies over 10mm on right
12 follies over 10mm on left
Follistim reduced to 125 units
next step is another stick/scan on Monday morning
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