Long Time No Blog.

I've realised I've not blogged for about a fortnight (which is FOREVER at the moment) so I thought I'd catch you all up quickly.

Egg collection was fine. A bit weird though. I was very nervous and got myself a little wound up. I even got hubby's birth date wrong (he wasn't very impressed). We met various nurses and embryologists and the like - every one of them was very sweet, friendly and patient. The best people in the world. WE had various surveys and things to fill in which was quite funny. "Do you see your embryo as a chance for a future baby?" Yes. "Are you nervous?" Yes. "Do you already think of your embryo as part of your family?" Uh, no! (Cuckoooooooo).
So OH went and did his part. Successfully. Well done dear. Then I went on in for the EC on my own while he went to pick up my prescription.
EC consisted of about 6 people wandering round me while I had my bits up in the air. But, to be fair, that stirruped chair was really comfy. I might get me one of those. Or not. So they gave me the drugs (in an IV thing in my arm - I was expecting it up my bottom, this was preferable!) and I remember telling Nurse Latin on my right that I didn't feel anything happening with the drugs. I think this was because I remember being given the anaesthetic for my op in November, and it all hit me in a bout 3 seconds (I remember saying 'Oooh, there's the woozy') but this took longer - probably a minute or 2.
So I didn't go woozy, I just suddenly don't remember chunks of time. I blinked and all of a sudden there was this sensation of a stapler being hit. Yes, in my lady parts. Nurse Latin was brilliant, she explained that that was the needle going through my vaginal wall (I didn't feel any pain, just that stapler sensation), gave me some more drugs and off I went again. I must have come round about 3 times, and each time Nurse Latin explained what was happening and topped up my dosage.
Apparently they took me back to the recovery room sat up in a wheelchair, I called out to OH that I was there and that it hadn't hurt, they stood me up, walked me to the recliner, sat me in it, reclined me and let me go back to sleep. I say apparently as I don't remember any of that. I also had conversations with hubby, passed out in the middle of a sentence, woke up half our later and carried on where I left off. Them was some gooooooood drugs. After a while I came round properly, had a sandwich and went home. There weren't any nasty after effects or anything, a couple of twinges, another nap and I was fine.

We had 8 eggs harvested, 7 were mature enough to inject, 1 didn't fertilise, 2 fertilised abnormally and 4 fertilised well. By transfer day, 1 of those 4 looked a bit dodgy so we had 3 good embryos. OH and I hadn't been sure how many embryos we wanted to transfer back in, but when we realised we had 3 it felt right to put 1 back in and freeze 2 for if we need them in the future.

Transfer was really simple except for the fact that my bladder is crazy. But hey, I learned the new skill of letting out a bit of pee then stopping. It turns out I can let out an eggcupful or a mugful and stop. And still have plenty left over for my "clear window". The catheter they put past my cervix was so small I couldn't even feel it. Less uncomfortable than a smear, definitely the easiest part of the whole process. Hubby and I got to see our actual embryo, then they brought it in, we saw the little squirt on the ultrasound (hubby swears it was a "spark") as it was put into my womb and then we were just sent home.

It is so hard, after being (by necessity) so controlling throughout this whole process about what time drugs are injected, how warm the drugs are, how much to inject etc, to just put the embryo in and hope nature makes it stick. Nature hasn't done so well for us so far, and to be honest, I'm not sure I trust that Mother Nature has been paying much attention our way.

Since then OH and I have moved house. This is always going to be a stressful experience. We tried to minimise the stress as much as possible, we paid for movers and enlisted friends and family to help, but the stress has kept coming. Mainly from our solicitor, who I do not recommend. At all. We've been in the house 2 days and she has now rung us to say, oops, the money SHE told us we needed to pay was actually £500 short. But at the moment she's not sure why. Righto lady, you send us those details and we'll figure out what to do with them. I know what my first instinct is...

POAS day is coming up. We're actually going to test a day earlier than the clinic has recommended, as that day is the day of my husband's 30th birthday party. If it's bad news, hopefully a day to cry will be enough for us to still enjoy his party. It's so horrible how unrelated areas of your life get affected by waiting round to get pregnant. I really want hubby to enjoy his birthday party, but I feel like I've been letting him down because we've got so much on. Hopefully our stick will give us good news, and it can be an amazing birthday present. Honestly, with all the things we've been doing, not only is this holiday sneaking past us, but POAS day is almost here and I haven't considered my feelings. I am possibly about to have a big fall on my face that I'm not prepared for...

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.

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...