Egg Collection

So egg collection was yesterday. I was really nervous about what it would be like. For those who don't know what it entails, the ultrasound wand thingy (or dildocam as Ali calls it) goes up as usual, then a needle (somehow) comes out of the end, goes through your vaginal wall and finds the ovaries just on the other side, picks up the eggies and retreats. During this procedure you are sedated, but not unconscious, as they like to be able to ask you to move etc when they need you to.

So anyway I was nervous, really nervous. My bad experience with the HSG has shown me that my pain threshold is not infinitely high like I previously thought it was, and things can hurt me more than I can stand. I was expecting suppository drugs, as I know others have had them this way, but I had an IV instead. I guess that is so they can control the amount of drugs in my system at a time.
There were 6 of us ladies in the recovery room (a room with lots of curtains and 6 reclining chairs - not much else) and Nurse Frantic, who was, as you may have guessed, entirely frantic. I found it amazing that after all it has taken us to get this far, there were still 6 of us going through it in one morning. There must be so many people who suffer like we have suffered...
OH did his part, we met the embryologists, covered up my hair and feet (all I could think was that the little feet covers were what the murderers wore on The Silence) and I left hubby and headed in to the room. I was aware of very little of the procedure really. It was funny, because They put the drugs in and I remember telling them all that I didn't feel anything yet and the drugs weren't doing anything. The next second (or so it seemed) I was jumping out of my skin because there was this sensation of them punching through my vaginal wall. It didn't hurt, it kind of made me think of hitting down on a stapler. A big noise, a feeling, but not pain. I came around a few times when something particularly uncomfortable was done, but the lady on my right was always talking to me when I was aware, telling me what was happening and putting more drugs in my system. The whole thing was just fine. I've had some twinges since, but I haven't really needed any tablets (I got myself co-codemol in preparation) and a hot water bottle has done me fine. I love hot water bottles. You know it's bad if a hot water bottle can't sort you out.

So I am completely relieved. I also slept fine last night, so that was another relief.

We've had a phonecall this morning from the embryologist. The results thus far are in! They collected 8 eggs, 1 of which ws not mature enough to bother with. 7 were injected directly with a single sperm. 1 of those didn't fertilise at all, 2 fertilised abnormally. So we are left with 4 good embryos. They have booked us in for embryo transfer on Thursday morning. I was expecting to feel elated at this point, but I don't. Lots of the tweeps online feel disappointed when they learn how many embryos they have, and I do too. I know 4 is a decent number. I know you only need 1, but I now think I'm unlikely to have any to freeze, and that makes it all feel very all or nothing. Which is a scary position to be in. Let's face it, the whole thing is pertrifying.

Oh, and now I'm on progesterone suppositories too. Great fun. I put them in and I'm petrified to break wind, in case it comes out and I suddenly can't have this baby. Great. Way to mess with my head.

Baby be brave

Baby be brave - The Corrs

Tell me what's it all for
If you're not terrified to fail

What I did for love...

Yesterday I had my next scan. Biggest follie went up from 16mm to 23.4mm. Not bad for 2 days! Nurse Chick scanned us. She was brilliant. Had lots of time for our questions, and talked us all the way through the scan. I now know what's going to happen for the Egg collection, and it didn't seem as scary as I thought it would. I had visions of this needle needing to travel half a foot around my internal organs, but it just needs to nip through my vaginal wall really. Not too bad.
Nurse Chick thought I'd probably have my egg collection on Friday, but when checked with the Doc, and decided that Monday will be best, to give the smaller ones extra time to catch up. This means that my poor swollen ovaries have to keep swelling. I feel like such a heffer.

Today's not been a great day really. Work is crazy, I feel like some people are trying to wind me up and the house is hopefully all about to go through and we should be moving a fortnight tomorrow. Smack bang in the middle of the 2 week wait. I've had a really good cry tonight, and now I'm holed up in my room watching A Chorus Line. What I did for love is taking on a new meaning, as do many songs about love and longing these days. OH has brought me the laptop, tea in bed, a squash, a cup of tea and is now entertaining our dog. And he's not even looking too stressed. Though I'm sure he is. I'm surrounded by stress, and I think I would be fine if everyone else just would be too.

Things are really starting to get the better of me now. I'm so glad we're doing it now with the summer holidays. Our NHS go is due around Christmas time, and knowing how hard this is now, when it's supposedly an easy time of the year makes me so glad I'm not doing it at the busiest time of the year. How do I make it through egg collection, egg transfer, the two week wait and the results? And all of that is just to get to the point where it begins for most people, actually being pregnant. The long road has never felt like a more appropriate title for this Blog. My RL friends had better start clearing their diaries, because I think I'm going to need a lot of company, entertaining and distracting in the coming weeks. Because my head is going to pop.

Manor Way

I hate Manor Way.

Manor Way is the road I sit on everytime I go to the clinic. I'm invariably on my own, as I'm either coming from work, or am going to work afterwards. Manor Way is where I sit and panic. It's where I wait in traffic that goes on forever and think about all the things that might be about to go wrong. I need to find some positive way to use that time - I tried to plan out this blog, but until I've been in for my appointment there's not much I can plan.

So I went for my scan and I was really worried that nothing would have been happening. And OH wasn't able to come, so Mam joined me. I never thought I'd have any sort of internal with my mother in the room, but I'm glad she was there.

There was a new doctor again (I only ever saw the one consultant all through the lead up, but now I'm seeing someone new each time!). I'll call her Dr. Business. She was all business. Pleasant, but not really interested in chatting to me. She gave me the whole scan whilst avoiding talking to me. And it took longer than the baseline scan. Ovary number 2 must have been a little more difficult to see, as instead of the little adjustments she made with the first, this had whole body movements to get to position, and was a lot less friendly to my poor battered cervix. She didnt' try to show me what was on the screen, and eventually when my nerves couldn't handle it any more, I said, "Are they growing?" "Yes, growing" was her (not quite) comforting reply. Mam could see the screen (although she hasn't had the practice I've had at interpreting the white and black splodges on screen) and could see that she was measuring lots of things.

So a quick clean and wipe up later, she makes lots of little crosses on a piece of paper and tells me the results. 1 at 16mm, 2 at 14mm, 1 at 13mm, 1 and 11mm and several smaller. That all sounds rather huge to me, in my dinky little ovaries. No wonder I'm starting to bloat... (Big fatty).

At this point I'm starting to realise I don't understand what's happening that well anymore. The girls on my forum and my tweeps seem to think that these are good sizes, and the fact that I've been called for my next scan on Wednesday (and not Friday like they initially expected) backs that up. I'm hoping that when I go for my next scan tomorrow they may let me know when egg collection will be. I don't really know what will happen then either. Something to do with a needle, a load of drugs up my rear end, an uncomfortable procedure that I may or may not remember and hopefully a great result at the end of it.

To be honest, at this point, I'm not sure how many details I want to know any more. It all seems a bit more intimidating now. The injections and the mood swings and what not were all something I could contemplate, but the next steps....

Also, I left work early today. I had some pains (bad enough that I couldn't stand up straight for ten minutes) and everyone around me looked so concerned that I think I just panicked. The nurses are happy that these pains are within the realms of normal, and the scan tomorrow will check if everything's ok anyway. No deviations from the plan please! I can't handle that, apparently...

Jennie 1 - 0 Aunt Flo

Well AF didn't show. I did the toilet paper check when I went to the loo first thing, and still nothing. I tried to ring the nurses to see if they needed to cancel, but couldn't get through. So off I went. Hubby and I left at the same time, and I actually got there a whole 5 minutes after him. I made that many daft decisions driving. I queued up where I didn't need to. I consistently swapped to be in the slowest lane. I was just daft and distracted.

So we got to the clinic and the nurse scans me anyway. She said my womb lining was very thin, and I AF was not even thinking about visiting. Off she went to check, and came back to tell us that was fine and we could get started on our next meds. Woop woop! The new drugs are lots more complicated to put together than the first lot, but we've done our first lot. Yeay us!

OH was absolutely hysterical while we were having the scan. I had warned him (as nobody had warned me) that the scan was the same machine as when you're pregnant. I'm sure I had told him it was an internal scan, but obviously not recently. I think he didn't spot me take off my undies (quick as a flash, me), so he was expecting the whole scan through my belly thing. His face when the nurse whipped out the little condom thing, put it on the wand and put a load of gel on it was just a scream. From then on, he was really funny. The poor nurse couldn't get a word in edgeways without him asking what she would have already told him if he hadn't interrupted...

But I'm really pleased. Everything is going to plan again. I've been really pleased with how even and un-psycho I've been this past fortnight, but when I thought things were off schedule earlier I was not a happy bunny. So I guess being fine is entirely dependent on me getting what I want at the moment. Oops.

White Pants Dance

This is me!
Well not exactly. This is what I am wearing in my head as I do my white trousers dance. Aunt Flo is still not here, and I really need her to visit. No knickers and white trousers is surely the way to start my period. If she's not here by Monday we'll probably be put back a week for everything.

I know, we've been waiting three years already, what's another week. But I really don't want to wait another week. Especially as that would mean another week on menopause drugs. At the moment I think I've escaped the psycho, but I'm not sure if I'd be so lucky for a whole extra week.

Hubby and I have mastered the jabs now too. I say we... I haven't done any of my own yet. In fact I have made great arrangements not to do my own. At the end of last week I was on a course in Swansea, and my friends, my work, my union and indeed the Liberty Stadium itself were all party to my plans to keep my drugs in the fridge all day. An old family friend was roped in to jab me on Friday (she threw it in like a dart - amazing!). On the Saturday OH was still away, on 'cricket' tour with work, and I was all set to do my own. In practice though, I couldn't figure out how to pinch my skin, poke it in, hold it steady, push the plunger and remove the needle all with just two hands. My mother (who had previously opted out of offering to inject me) must have suddenly had an adrenalin surge, as she suddenly decided she could do it. Thanks, Mam! So I am still a virgin, as far as actually giving injections goes, but I am b*stard hard at receiving them.

It's my birthday on Sunday! (All my American tweeps and bleeps are having fireworks - just for me!) My 30th in fact. A friend in work (one of those who's been there and understands) has asked me if I'm excited to turn 30. She's right, I am. Most of the things I thought I'd have by 30, I do have. A hubby I love, who loves me, a good home, a good job (and a fantastic fur-baby). I'm blessed and rewarded in many ways. But OH and I are no way complete. And those last pieces of the jigsaw will come in my 30s. I guess we're not exactly sure how yet. I really hope that this ICSI will work, and we will have at least one of those pieces in just over 9 months time. But if not, and if it never works, we will adopt. And even that can happen within a decade. So my 30s will be when it all fits together. One way or another.

I'm having a party tomorrow over mam's house (Thanks Mam! Thanks Dad!) and I'm hoping to invite AF. She's arrived on the Sunday morning after a Saturday night relax many a time, but just to be sure... I hope all my guests are ready to don their whites for the white pants dance!