EGG LAYING & THE TRANSFER

Tuesday July 14^th
DAY 24 / EGG LAYING DAY!!!
“Hi, I am here to Lay My Eggs” I announce at the clinic front desk on the morning of the embryo transfer. The receptionist doesn’t seem to hear me correctly – which is odd because the entire waiting area has now spun their heads in our direction. In a slightly less excitable voice, I repeat “I am here for my… procedure” and I make a swirly gesture with my hands around my stomach area. The receptionist smiles and puts a hospital ID band on my wrist.

We are shown to the waiting area in the retrieval clinic. I am hooked up to an IV and Claudine is given a devastatingly jaunty paper gown, hat and shoe cover combo to wear. We have the giggles about everything because our nerves are flushing the logic from our brains.

The procedure itself is scheduled for 11am and a protocol of blood pressure monitoring and IV fluid is done while we wait.

Our doctor is on vacation, so one of the other clinic physicians assists with the transfer. He is charming and hilarious so we immediately have a good banter going. He introduces himself in the procedure room while the nurses get me prepped. He says hello to Claudine and I joke that I have no idea who she is and why she is there, the doctor agrees that she looks like a total random that I probably just met in the waiting room.

In terms of the actual process, the eggs are retrieved with a long needle – the size of which I think is best left undescribed. An ultrasound is used while the needle is passed through the wall of the vagina and into each ovarian follicle to gather each egg. The eggs are then moved out through the needle. SWEET MERCY!!

The nurses wait until you are spread-eagled in the operating room before giving the full dose of the ‘good stuff’; the medicine which is supposed to knock you out into the realms of a groggy, pain free place of forgetting the fact that the words needle and vagina are being used conjointly – sadly no full anesthesia here, folks.

I was given a dose based on my size and height but I think the drug was still finding the right pathways to disconnect and numb when they got started – a white heat of pain that somehow also sends icicles into every attentive nerve was the momentary ache from the initial needle insertion. The peak of the pain tapered off as soon as the medicine reminded my nerves to forget their life purpose.

When the drugs finally fully kicked in and the harvesting was well underway, everyone in the room knew I was feeling no pain. I didn’t get knocked out, but I do remember thinking “gosh I really can’t stop talking” from some fluffy far away perch. I apparently made jokes and talked about an unending torrent of bullshit during the entire process.

The exact details of my drug addled rambling are fortunately not that easy to recall, but Claudine said that the Doc came by after to say that was the most entertaining retrieval he had in a long time. Apparently my suggesting that he was vigorously getting sand out of my vagina really made him laugh. Luckily I was in the juicy embrace of clouds 9, 10 and 11 so I remember everything in that hazy light of a waking dream.

Later in the recovery area I made this note below in my phone (I fixed the typos for readability) but this is apparently what I wrote when I was still pretty drugged up.

The sides of your head expand and open to let the whole of existence in. Our bodies trick us into thinking that we begin and end somewhere. When we are all actually everything. 

 

Don’t do drugs, kids.

We left the clinic a few hours later when I sobered up with a lengthy list of instructions and the dazed surreal feeling of now having to wait for the fertilisation results.

Wednesday July 15^th
EMBRYO STATS: DAY 1
We are told on the call update line that out of the 14 eggs retrieved they have fertilized 11 successfully. ELEVEN!!
Tomorrow is Day 2 for Team Embryos and the lab lets them ‘rest’ in the incubator so our next update on them will be on day 3.

Hot tears blur my eyes and I am momentarily overwhelmed with a pang of some deep inside connection to the idea that there are microscopic cells splitting and dividing, forming life. Perhaps these fertility drugs are finally getting to me.

I send love and light to the very idea of them growing in their petri dish. Something feels suddenly larger than all of this medicine and science.

Thursday July 16^th
EMBRYO STATS: DAY 2/ BUTT SHOTS

I am drinking Gatorade with a fierce dedication, even though I find it to be a repugnant beverage. The post egg retrieval instructions outlined the careful steps to be taken to avoid the risk of fluid retention from Ovarian Hyper Stimulation – having fluid potentially build up in my abdomen and chest is clearly not something that I care to tangle with – so they recommend drinking lots of sodium rich fluids and have a high intake of salty foods.

I diligently drink liquid and chart my intake and output. Which is literally measuring everything you drink and pee for 5 days. I opted for the grape flavoured Gatorade and find it amusing that my fluid goes in purple and the exact same amount comes out quite yellow. It’s weird to measure how much you pee. It’s weird to have a pee jar in your bathroom for a week. It’s weird to talk about pee jars. I took a picture of the full before and after jars, but I think it’s best to not post pictures of my urine on the Internet.

Claudine needs to take progesterone oil, which is delivered in an intramuscular shot to the butt for best absorption. The needle is large and needs to go in very deep. Despite myself, I am willing to attempt the injection, but she is too nervous and decides to go to the clinic each morning to have the nurse do it. Not the most convenient or pleasant thing ever.

Overall I feel a bit sore but nothing too much more horrible than some cramping and general swollenness. I keep reminding myself that this is all nothing compared to what Claudine will have to endure during pregnancy.

I am prescribed an additional five days of Orgalutran shots and anti water retention pills to help with the risk of Ovarian Hyper Stimulation. I felt pretty excited about not having to take anymore injections, but another five days will not be the end of times.

Friday July 17^th
EMBRYO STATS: DAY 3

Another two of the embryos stopped dividing and we now have nine strong candidates of clustered cells. Little sets of chromosomes dividing like champions. GO TEAM EGGS! Apparently they are all looking strong. Or as ‘strong’ as such a limited number of cells can really look. I imagine them all to be wearing capes and hats.

I am still drinking lots of fluids and really maximising the excuse to “eat salty chips and snacks”. I might be taking that suggestion a bit far but Salt n’ Vinegar Crisps are really the reason my taste buds were invented.

I am enjoying walking around, sipping my disgusting Gatorade and yelling, “I am an athlete, I need to hydrate” to anyone who will listen. Mostly that ‘anyone’ is Claudine and she stopped listening a few days ago.

Aaron, our own personal doctor in the family, was in town and happened to be staying with us overnight. He gave me a demonstration of how correctly to administer the progesterone shot.

He showed me exactly how to do it and I agreed to “try” the next morning so that Claudine will not have to go to the clinic.

Saturday July 18^th
EMBRYO STATS: DAY 4

Our embryos are having another ‘rest day’ today so no updates on them. I managed to give Claudine the progesterone oil shot, somehow. The most shocking part was how easily the large needle pierced the flesh. It took all of my ninja strength not to faint. Less than a month ago I would have fainted and stuck the needle in my own eye on the way down. Progress.

Sunday July 19^th
EMBRYO STATS: DAY 5/TRANSFER DAY!!!
My final ultrasound is scheduled a half-hour before the embryo transfer time. This final scan is to make sure there is no residual fluid build up in my ovaries and abdomen. The scan was significantly less painful than the ones leading up to the retrieval.

Afterwards I boot it over to the other side of the clinic where Claudine is stationed in a relaxing reclining chair. It is now my turn to get suited up in paper clothing.

I have worn my dad’s watch today for good luck. He died in January 2014 because a stranger was speeding and ploughed their car into his truck. I have brandished his shitty, army green, made in china plastic watch on days when I need extra luck ever since. The battery has needed replacing for months but I wear it anyway because I miss him everyday.

We have a total final count of 6 embryos that made it to the blastocyst stage – meaning that at day 5 of development these cells are all ready for the next phase. The embryo transfer needs to be done with a full bladder ultrasound. If you have been lucky enough to never need to have one of these, it is basically letting someone prod and drag a plastic wand covered in freezing gel over your overly full bladder for an extended period of time all the while not punching the technician. It is not pleasant. Except this time they are also implanting an embryo and Claudine will have to sit still for an additional 15 minutes after. It is only 9am, the procedure is scheduled for 10am and poor Claudine has yet again had way too much water, way too early, her over diligence in making sure she drinks enough always leaves her uncomfortably full way too early.

In the procedure room I am trying to distract her from the increasingly uncomfortable fact that she desperately needs to pee, by pointing out silly random things in the room.

Look… Lamp!

Suction Unit Bag!

Shoe Hats!

Look at all these things you can’t see because you are lying down!

There is a small window that leads into the lab where the tube filled with the embryos will be dispensed. Our doctor is still on vacation, the new doctor filling in today introduces herself, she is very personable and also quite pregnant. Somehow this makes me like her more. Like she somehow REALLY knows what she is doing, even though that actually makes no sense at all. In any event it feels like extra good luck.

She reviews our file and notes that our doctor suggested transferring two embryos. This was something that we had been emotionally wrestling in thick indecision with for a while.

The new doctor again ran through all the stats and logistics of doing one versus two embryos and our chances versus failure and success rates.

The amount of numbers and stats can make your head spin.

I asked her what she would do, personally. She said that given the facts that this was our first try, that we had no history of miscarriage, known risks and that we had other embryos to attempt in the future, that she would personally transfer one and see how it went. The lab tech also popped her head in through the window and said she would also do one because these blastocysts had been developing strongly. The nurses nodded in unison.

Our decision was made.

The transfer itself was quick and painless – minus the discomfort of Claudine having to go to the washroom. The doctor made sure we watched the screen at the exact time she released the embryo. Even though the actual embryo is too small to be visible the fluid pocket it is delivered with shows on the screen as a tiny flash of a sparkle.

You can’t really hope for a more perfect depiction of seeing the exact moment your possible future baby starts life than with a tiny, perfect ‘flash sparkle’.

Ideally Claudine needed to stay lying down for at least another 10 minutes after the insertion before moving to the recliner in the recovery area. While we waited for the time to slowly creep by – my brain laden with the magic of things beyond my understanding – I looked at the ultrasound picture time printed with the precise moment of the transfer. I realised that my dad’s watch was stuck on the exact time. 10:19am. The date counter on the watch simply displayed the number 1.

So many times in life events create a vacuum of circumstance that is bigger and more awe inspiring than anything we can comprehend.

Let the adventures begin…