When we left off, mine and Brad's reproductive goods had been gathered and combined. We had fertilization! The doctor's called me the day after retrieval to let me know that 19 eggs had been retrieved, 14 were mature enough to be fertilized, and 11 had become embryos!
Brad and I were looking at a potential 11 children. Joey Lawrence Whoa.
The office set up a tentative 3-day transfer, which would involve putting an embryo or two back in on Sunday. Sunday morning rolled around and I received a call that seven of our embryos were on their way to becoming blastocysts (this is a good thing) and that our transfer would be Tuesday. By Tuesday I was a nervous wreck. Brad's mom took me to the hospital this time. I could have driven myself, but Valium was involved again.
Let's talk for a second about how nice it was to get Valium throughout this process. Normal couples can get drunk and have a baby. I got lots of hospitals and needles, but I got Valium.
Brad's mom got to scrub up and come into the procedure room with me this time. I wasn't expecting that, but I didn't mind. My mix CD came in handy today, too, and we were rocking out when Brad came down. He scrubbed in and held my hand as we implanted two embryos. Just like that, we were pregnant until proven otherwise.
I was on bed rest for the next two days and we began the scary progesterone shots. However, they were nothing compared to the two-week wait (until our pregnancy test) that stretched out before us.
Monday, May 20, 2013
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
Egg Free is the Way to Be
I had my egg retrieval on December 13. I know, you're so excited that I'm yet again blogging about IVF. :)
For those who aren't sick of hearing about my reproductive woes, here goes.
I got the call from my doctor Tuesday afternoon that we were a go for Thursday egg retrieval. That meant that I would take my normal shots at 8PM as well as an additional two shots at 11PM. People--I'm old. I wake up at 5:30AM for work, so I am definitely asleep by 11. I had to set a dang alarm for this shot. I was so paranoid that I had Brad set one, too.
That was an excellent move on my part because guess who shut off the alarm as a minor nuisance in her sleep? This lady.
Anyway, took my shots like a champ and went back to bed.
Brad went to work as normal the next morning and I waited for my dad to arrive to drive me to the hospital. Luckily, Brad works at the hospital where my doctor and all procedures are, so it works out nicely.
You know what else works out nicely? Valium. I got to take a valium upon arrival at the hospital along with the smallest sip of water. Then, I was taken to my "room" to put on the gown and wait. Dad waited with me and kept me calm. The valium probably helped with that, too.
When the doctor's were ready, I was taken to the procedure room. When they called to schedule this, they encouraged me to bring some music to listen to. I made a lovely mix CD of songs that reminded me of Brad and why we were doing this and it began to play when I was brought to the procedure room. The hooked up the pain meds to my IV to help keep me sedated and pain-free. A man named Steve opened a trap door from next door (the lab) and had me verify my name and birth date. Steve's job was to take the eggs, fertilize them, and grow them in my petri dish.
The retrieval itself is a bit fuzzy, as it should be, but recovery was a little rough. While I was still at the hospital, I managed to almost pass out and I did get sick. Dad stuck with me and Brad came to visit for awhile, so I felt well-cared for. Just rough. After they released me, I laid on the couch at home with Dad nearby. He wanted to stay with me until Brad got home from work. I was OK once I was released and I slept for a bit.
I had made it through that part and I had the knowledge that our children were conceived while Brad was at work and I was hanging out with my dad. How many people can say that?
For those who aren't sick of hearing about my reproductive woes, here goes.
I got the call from my doctor Tuesday afternoon that we were a go for Thursday egg retrieval. That meant that I would take my normal shots at 8PM as well as an additional two shots at 11PM. People--I'm old. I wake up at 5:30AM for work, so I am definitely asleep by 11. I had to set a dang alarm for this shot. I was so paranoid that I had Brad set one, too.
That was an excellent move on my part because guess who shut off the alarm as a minor nuisance in her sleep? This lady.
Anyway, took my shots like a champ and went back to bed.
Brad went to work as normal the next morning and I waited for my dad to arrive to drive me to the hospital. Luckily, Brad works at the hospital where my doctor and all procedures are, so it works out nicely.
You know what else works out nicely? Valium. I got to take a valium upon arrival at the hospital along with the smallest sip of water. Then, I was taken to my "room" to put on the gown and wait. Dad waited with me and kept me calm. The valium probably helped with that, too.
When the doctor's were ready, I was taken to the procedure room. When they called to schedule this, they encouraged me to bring some music to listen to. I made a lovely mix CD of songs that reminded me of Brad and why we were doing this and it began to play when I was brought to the procedure room. The hooked up the pain meds to my IV to help keep me sedated and pain-free. A man named Steve opened a trap door from next door (the lab) and had me verify my name and birth date. Steve's job was to take the eggs, fertilize them, and grow them in my petri dish.
The retrieval itself is a bit fuzzy, as it should be, but recovery was a little rough. While I was still at the hospital, I managed to almost pass out and I did get sick. Dad stuck with me and Brad came to visit for awhile, so I felt well-cared for. Just rough. After they released me, I laid on the couch at home with Dad nearby. He wanted to stay with me until Brad got home from work. I was OK once I was released and I slept for a bit.
I had made it through that part and I had the knowledge that our children were conceived while Brad was at work and I was hanging out with my dad. How many people can say that?
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