The low down and the down low

Damn you fertility treatment and your insidious infiltration of happiness and general well being!

This treatment cycle moved so quickly, I'm already on the 2-week wait roller-coaster and once again, it sucks.

Last week I went in for my first blood test on day 12 of my cycle. When I rang my fertility specialist to be told when I needed to do my next blood test I was surprised that I needed to go back the next day and go in for an ultrasound. I thought it must just suit the specialist to see me on that day for the ultrasound (which is to check that my uterus lining is looking like a nice soft cushion that little embryos would just love to snuggle into) and that he wanted the blood test result to check my hormone levels that corresponded with the ultrasound.

Once again the ultrasound is internal. To try to elevate some of the embarrassment about the whole situation my specialist starts a funny conversation about how his teenage son asked him what sort of deviate he was to decide to become a gynecologist. He assured me it wasn't because he wanted to look at girls private parts (phew).

Throughout the scan the fertility specialists say he thinks I ovulated the day before. What? Really? He needs to check the blood test result to be sure.

Once I'm re-dressed from the waist down I wander across to the doctor's consultation room. He is looking at my blood test results and confirms he thinks I've already ovulated (on day 12 of my cycle!). He confirms he is going to request my embryos are thawed that day and that transfer will be on 3 days time.

Crickey! I'm stunned by the speed of it. I usually get blood tests for a week and half, before we get to ovulation (which usually happens between day 18 and 21 of my cycle!).

I mention to the doctor I've had some spotting for the past few days. His face then looks perplexed. He explains while it can happen around ovulation, it is not ideal. He wants me to start progesterone medication immediately and to let him know if the bleed develops into a full blown period. If that happens, we will potentially have wasted the embryos that are being thawed.

Thankfully once on the progesterone the spotting disappears.

The thaw of 2 embryos for transfer results in 3 embryos being thawed, our last 3 embryos. One embryo didn't survive the thaw but the other kicked on, slowly at first, but by transfer day 1 is a blastocyst, the other still a morula. Both apparently look pretty good. I've nicked names these embryos obi wan and obi two, a tenuous link to Star Wars famous princess Leia plea - help me obi wan kenobi, you're my only hope.

I decided at the last minute to throw acupuncture in the mix again this time. I saw the acupuncturist just before transfer, that day after transfer and again 5 days post transfer.

And so, we wait. It sucks. Some days I think it has worked, other days I think it won't have worked. I really struggle at work at this time. I just don't cope well with the everyday frustrations and difficulties of the office. Everything that is crap about work is so amplified. All week I've been fighting with myself just to get to work. I get there every day and it isn't as bad as I've made it out to be in my mind.

Not long now before the home pregnancy test obsession will be let loose and we will see if obi wan and/or obi two have settled in.

Feeling futile

Before it was medically confirmed, I was pretty certain this transfer cycle hasn't worked. I did 3 home pregnancy tests and all were completely negative.

I blew off the blood test wait and went in a couple of days early to simply get the result confirmed. And it was - negative.

Did you hear the sound of the twist top wine bottle opening?

I've experienced anxiety throughout the wait and while I have definitely been frustated about a the cycle not working, I have already decided to head straight back into another cycle.

Logically I know I just have get ready to try again, but this failure has me asking questions about just how much more of it we can take. I resent the money we've spent on numerous treatments and treating lost pregnancies. Tens of thousands of dollars that is just running through our fingers like water. I also resent that my career is stalling. Spending more, earning the same, going nowhere, with nothing but pain, heartache, scars and sad feelings to show for it.

With failure after failure you have to ask, when do you stop? When do you decide to just simply get on with your life? While I don't know the answer to this question I do know, it is not yet.

Three frozen embryos are still waiting to be used, and I intend to burn through them, before ploughing straight on to make more embryos (presuming we are able to replicate another successful stimulated IVF cycle) unless by some miracle I actually manage to get pregnant, and have a baby.

Not pregnant (yet?)

As always, I cannot resist the urge of the early at home pregnancy test, and this time I'm not getting the result I want.

I tested 6 days after transfer, knowing it was really early, it was negative. I tested again the next day, 7 days after transfer, and still negative. Why test so early? Well, because we transfered 2 embryos, I think if they have both taken, it is likely I will get a positive early.

Last time we did transfer I got a positive at 7 days past my 5 day transfer of two embryos. By the time time we got to ultrasound there was only 1 baby, so I don't know if there were 2 at one point.

I am disappointed to not be getting a positive yet and beginning to think perhaps it hasn't taken this time. Not being one to give up, I'm waiting until 9 days post transfer to test again and if that one isn't positive, I will no doubt test again 11 days post transfer.

I think that what ever the result is on 9 days post transfer should be pretty accurate as 9 days post a 5 day embryo transfer is 14 days post ovulation, and when my period would be due if it weren't for the progesterone medications I'm on.

I've heard my friends still start their period, even when on the progesterone medications post transfer. Perhaps if I'm not pregnant this time, that will happen to me too?

My blood test will be 11 days past embryo transfer, and I guess if I haven't had a positive home pregnancy test by then, it will be settled once and for all with a blood test.

Cycle mania creeps in

Its official. Fertility cycles mess with me. A few things I've noticed about myself in the past day or so that I believe have started as a result of the fertility treatment:

1. I'm a sook. Not crying sook (yet), but things upset me more easily.
2. I whinge. Everything sucks, especially anything associated with fertility treatment, for example I have resisted starting the progesterone pessaries because they suck, and now I've started using them I've whinged about it - a lot.
3. I don't stick to plans. Fertility takes over everything else can wait - that includes riding to work, catch ups with friends
4. I'm lazy (well lazier). The couch holds an extra special appeal right now. 
5. I don't manage with the regular stresses of life well. A frustrating incident at work send me into a near panic attack and a less than helpful shop assistant has me demanding to speak to a manager or sending scathing emails to head office.

I've just been reading an online forum on bubhub for all the women going through fertility treatment in July/August. I don't join or post, but reading gives me a great sense of solidarity. Also, I realise while I'm certainly driven a little crazy by treatment, so are a lot of women. One lady posted that she was losing her mind having learned the next door neighbour's cat who managed to get out just one night was now pregnant. She was pissed off that the cat gets knocked up first go. 

So crazy has kicked in, but I don't think so crazy that a pregnant cat would upset me, but I'm not sure as it hasn't come up. It just might. If you have any pregnant pets, might be best not to mention it to me.

Hope still reins supreme. 

Not long to wait before we know if it has worked this time.

Coping strategies: Prepare me for another roll of the dice

Yep, that's right, I signed up to do a mini triathlon.

Regular readers, and those that know me, will know I do not have the body of a triathlete. Far from it. So why am I doing this triathlon?

In February we had our catch up with the fertility specialist to go over the latest pregnancy loss and talk about our next steps. It was another tough appointment. Once again the specialist wanted to revisit all the pregnancies and subsequent losses.

The surprising news to us is that the specialist believes we have an excellent prognosis, with really shit luck. Basically, four out of the five of our pregnancy losses have been completely random events, that can happen to anyone. To have them happen to us, four times, is unlucky (and in the case of the heterotopic pregnancy rare and unlucky). These were the ectopic pregnancies and the 2 trisomy miscarriages. Our most recent miscarriage is the only loss that wasn't completely random or unrelated to anything specifically to do with us. They don't know what caused it, but it was definitely something to do with us - our genetics.

The specialist also explains that our cohort of embryos is the best he's seen in years. They were all such high quality and we were lucky enough to make so many in our full IVF round (a luxury I particularly appreciate knowing how hard many of my other infertile friends find it to get quality embryos).

So I'm sitting there crying wondering if I can go on with it, while I have five 4 cell, grade 4 (on a scale of 0-5 with 5 being the best) embryos on ice. Meanwhile my specialist is saying I'm almost a best case scenario and would be mad not to go on.

Well, it still doesn't feel that way. It feels like the impossible.

It hurt a little bit, but Matt asked about my weight and whether it is worth taking a break and losing more of it. It hurts because it is not like I haven't wondered myself if it really is just my weight that is stopping us from succeeding in this venture and to know that it is clearly playing on Matt's mind. It hurts because of the stupid Biggest Loser story line about single Brenda whose partner left her because they failed to have children. It hurts because we started to trying to have a child over three years ago and I know if I'd just had any ability to think long term in those three years I could have lost a lot more weight - my sister is tribute to that.

In the same amount of time I've been trying to have a baby my sister has lost an extraordinary 55kg and is still committed to getting the last 8kgs off. I on the other hand have lost 7kgs, gained 8kgs, lost 7kgs, gained 2kgs, lost 5kgs, gained 6kgs, lost 7kgs and so on... I can pick the pattern to it - leading up transfers I lose weight, following pregnancy loss I gain it. My emotions are playing a strong role, as they always have, in my weight management.

My specialist is a tubby fellow and appreciates that for those of us that carry the extra kilos how hard it is to shake. He confessed that he'd given up chocolate in 2012. He also again tells us that any weight off will help, not just in getting pregnant, but in general pregnancy health and baby health. Small numbers help, even just a couple of kilos. He is very clear that given my age it is not worth taking a long break to lose a large amount of weight as the advantage of the weight loss will be undone by the disadvantage of being too old. Ughhhh. He says I can get back into transfers after I have my next period, but to take a break if I need it, but not for too long. He also, for the first time, recommends I see one of the Queensland Fertility Group psychologists  given the difficulty I'm having deciding, but also because I am going be extremely anxious when I do get pregnant. This I am of course already incredibly aware of.

It is hard because it feels like my weight is the only factor the specialists can suggest could make a difference to our achieving a healthy pregnancy.

I need to stop thinking month to month, cycle to cycle and start thinking in longer units of time. I decide I need to start planning for things that are months off and stop just thinking about getting ready for the next transfer. I decide I should set a weight loss goal for the short term (4 kgs before a family wedding) and the longer term (10 kgs before my birthday in July).

With my new resolve I set my alarm to get up the next morning and go for a walk. When the alarm goes off I quickly switch it off, ignore it and roll over. A classic problem for me. Motivated the night before, zero motivation when I have to implement the plan.

I mention my lack of motivation to a work colleague who has gone triathlon mad and she suggests I sign up for the BRW corporate triathlon. It is a short triathlon, with only a 400 metre swim, 10km bike ride and 4km run. Despite having almost no running ability I decide I should do it.

As it turns out being signed up and committed to the triathlon is just the motivation I needed and I actually jump out of bed when the alarm goes off. I've been training for about 4 weeks and there are 4 more weeks to race day. I'm not going to win the race, but I certainly am improving my fitness and dropping a few kilograms to boot. I'm actually enjoying doing a the mix of training. We bought new bikes and Matt and I have been enjoying regular bike rides. We both hate running, and since Matt doesn't have a weight problem nor need to run a triathlon in a few weeks he has now given up getting up for running training sessions. I've been fitting in 1 swim a week.

The triathlon has given me a different goal to focus on. My health and fitness and running the best time I can in the event. The baby making mission is still the motivator behind it, but I'm going to wait until after the triathlon to do our next embryo transfer.

I'm also letting myself let me hair down a little over easter. I'm going to enjoy a few drinks and chocolate and then from next week I'm getting back on the wagon to make the most out of my last few weeks of training.

In May we plan to roll the dice again, and give baby making a chance.

Transfer completed

On Friday, I decided to postpone transfer.

In the morning I rang the Queensland Fertility Group Lab to check on my embryos and was shocked to learn the 7 cell embryo was still just 7 cells, and the 8 cell embryo was now 12 cells. I got nervous, and thought it unlikely that the embryos would be viable given how slowly they were developing. The embryologist told me the 12 cell still looked okay, but the 7 cell was being downgraded, not because it looked bad, but because it was developing so slowly.

I rang my fertility specialist and he didn't seem all that excited by the results either. He mentioned we could move the transfer to Saturday, so we could see how they go. I decided that was a good idea. I'd rather not transfer unviable embryos. So at the last minute we decided to wait.

My anxiety levels crept up and so did Matt's. On Friday afternoon I rang the lab again and asked them to have another look at the embryos. Only 5 hours later the 7 cell embryo had suddenly kicked on to being 12-13 cells and the 12 cell embryo had started compacting into a morula. This is all good news. It is amazing how quickly it all changes. At 10am I think I might not even have any embryos to transfer, or at best 1. By 3pm everything is rolling well again.

Saturday transfer was early. Technically the embryos are just about 5 days old (based on when they made, and how long they've been thawed). Ideally they would be blastocysts, but when we see the embryologist he said in the morning when they looked at them they were both morulas. He then said he'd another sneaky look just before transfer and one looked like it has started cavitation, meaning it was turning into the blastocyst. Super news again!

My fertility specialist asks if I'm sure about putting them both in. Logically one healthy baby is the desired result, but I've had so many not work, my brain does not compute that two embryos going in could genuinely equate to two babies out. I can't even really perceive one baby out. I say yes to two embryos. My fertility specialist looks a little nervous for me. I'm glad he has so much confidence about the success of this transfer!

Matt and I slip out to the patient lounge and sit for 30 minutes and then it is back on with life as normal - like embryo transfer was just a trip to the dentist. I had lunch and movies with a girlfriend planned and Matt and I had a few errands we wanted to run before then.

I've got nearly 2 weeks before I do the pregnancy blood test.

The night before transfer

I'd be lying if I said I felt great. This week a few things have happened and I've felt waves of anxiety with every thing that has not gone quite so smoothly.

Firstly, yesterday morning I rang the lab to find out how our lovely little embryos went through the thaw, only to find the lab didn't have my paperwork. A few hours later my fertility specialist rang me and explained there had been a clerical hitch that resulted in my thaw instructions not being faxed. My paperwork was sent immediately and the thaw started a day later than planned. 

Today I rang again to find out how the thaw had gone and was pleased to learn I had 2 good looking embryos, one had 8 cells, the other 7 cells. I then learned that three embryos had been thawed, as one of my embryos didn't survive the thaw. 

I'm still booked for transfer tomorrow, but I need to ring first thing in the morning and make sure the embryos are still okay. If anything is looking iffy, the transfer may be moved to Saturday. I'm hoping that the two thawed embryos just keep on growing overnight and that tomorrow I will have only good news.

On the good news front, Matt has arranged to leave work early to be able to make the transfer, so he will be with me and we will both leave a hope in our hearts.

With the small setbacks, I admire my fertility specialist even more. He rang me personally to tell me that the thaw hadn't gone ahead and discussed all the options at that point with me directly. Again today he spoke with me about the result of the thaw and went out of his way to make a transfer time that was more suitable for us and making it a lot easier for Matt to make it.

Frozen embryo transfer (FET) eve has a very different feel than it did in August when we did our first  FET. Last time everything pre-transfer ran smoothly, however everything after transfer went pear shaped. I'm hoping these little set backs before transfer bode well for smooth sailing post transfer.

Frozen embryo transfer take 2 - Booked!

When I rang to get my blood test result it was all on! Being 'monitored' is a funny thing. I ring after so many tests and it is so dull, but when it's happening even the receptionist seems pumped! She rapid fired out instructions:

• you don't need another blood test
• transfer is on Friday
• start luteal phase support tomorrow
• how many do you want back, 1 or 2?
• call on Thursday to find out what time your transfer will be
• organise to pay your cycle fee
• do you know what you need to do?
• Okay good luck.

So my frozen embryo transfer is officially booked. Tomorrow our embryos will be defrosted. I'm pretty sure it is a more sophisticated process than a few minutes on low in the microwave. Over the next few days I will be able to find out how they are progressing right up until they put them back in.

On Friday Matt has the last day of school with his students - he's going to be getting wet and wild, Queensland waterslide theme park style. Meanwhile in a hospital room 100 kilometres away, I'll be with a doctor, and a number of strangers, getting knocked up -  well at least we both hope so. 

Thoroughly modern conception.

Excitement as a new cycle begins

Let's face it, I've had a crazy year. We've had a crazy year. Getting pregnant has been happening. Damn fallopian tubes have been a problem, but they are gone. I wonder about the babies that got stuck in the tubes, maybe they were okay, maybe they had the same chromosomal problems the babies that have miscarried did - I don't know. But surely out of eight shiny, beautiful embryos there must be a couple of good ones.

I've already started with blood tests, looking for ovulation this cycle. Based on the results that I'm getting, the fertility specialist thinks that is going to happen in the next couple of days and when it does, we are taking two shiny, little embryos out of the freezer.

Given our history, I don't think that both will take. All I want is one to do what it is supposed to do. And if somehow both stick, I'm ready to cope with double trouble. As ready as anyone - who has no kids and no idea just how hard that could possibly be - can be.

In the past couple of months I've been surrounded by people having babies, my neighbour, three of my work colleagues, my in-laws. I feel like I've cuddled more babies in the last month than I have in my whole life. And each cuddle seems to give me more hope.

I have such hope for this cycle I can barely contain it. Every once and a while I catch a glimpse of my own enthusiasm and I start to think about how having so much hope means I'm also potentially in for a big fall if it doesn't work. I'm throwing caution to the wind. I just don't want to put the breaks on my enthusiasm. I really want this cycle to work and I can't see any reason why it shouldn't, so why shouldn't I be hopeful, excited and positive.

All positive baby making vibes are welcomed over the next couple of weeks.  :)

Work is just a necessary evil

This week I feel I could quit and never work again.

While I may have from time-to-time dreamed of being independently wealthy and not needing to work, the desire just to throw in the towel is a foreign feeling for me. I've always gotten some level of enjoyment out of my work. Right now my job is like a love affair turned sour - I'm going through the motions, getting the job done, but the passion has evaporated.

For a while there I thought it must have been the job so I was looking, looking, looking for something else. A new, exciting, less stressful job. This week the penny dropped. It's not the job, it's me. You see, I've gone crazy. Rational thought has left the head, all that remains is a relentless body clock ticking maddeningly chiming hourly "you need to get yourself a baby a get yourself on maternity leave".

I wish I could soak in the many thoughts and recommendations that everything will be fine and that we will have children and once we do I'll wish I hadn't wasted all this pre-children time being a nut case. While I don't mind people saying it and some days it may even make me feel better, most of the time it simply washes over me. It just doesn't matter how rational your arguments are, I can't hear you. You see, all I hear is tick, tick, tick. I think once you want to have a kid and you've had years of set backs, all the amount of rationality in the world doesn't help. I've actually gone crazy. Sorry. Rational discussion on the topic doesn't matter anymore.

When I think what would I do if I didn't work, the picture gets much worse. All that time to sit around and feel sorry for myself and think more about wishing we had children. No thanks.

I've realised it is more likely my personal dissatisfaction, versus my job dissatisfaction, that makes me not want to go to work. With this revelation I've come to a decision - I'm going to stop looking for, thinking about, applying for other jobs - and I feel really good about that.

Work is a necessary evil. Once I've got this part-time balance right, I'm sure it will be excellent. Just the right amount of distraction and time to do things I enjoy or that are good for my health.

I've also made another decision this week. As I'm clearly getting nutty again, I'm not going to wait to do my next frozen embryo transfer. I've spoken with my fertility specialist and he said physically there is no reason I can't try again straight away (I heard the subtext - but you may be getting a little nutty, so perhaps need to calm down a bit).

Nutty or not, I'm lining up again.

Now I know is it any easier?

I was pleased when I arrived for my blood test that no other ladies were waiting...speedy processing for me! Just as I jump into the chair the fire alarm starts to go off. Thankfully the nurse is as determined to get me through as I am and she brushes off the nurse that pops her head in the room to tell her to evacuate. In a  jiffy my blood is in a test tube and I'm out the door.

Once again I wait an hour and half and ring my fertility specialist's office. The receptionist has a look for my results - they aren't yet in the system but she goes looking on the fax. She comes back and says she needs to speak to the specialist about the results. I'm on hold for a minute and then she says "Congratulations, you are pregnant."

I'm pleased, but not overjoyed. Let's face it, this is my third congratulations, and still no babies. I ask what my HCG level is. It is 180. I'm happy with that (not that I really know what the number means). I'm instructed to go for another test in two days to check the HCG number is increasing as it should be.

Damn it, Matt is on camp. I try to ring him, but he is out of range. I leave messages hoping he will ring me back. I've got no one to tell. Matt and I have been keeping this cycle on the quiet and I don't really want to tell anyone until I've told Matt.

I secretly tell one person - Matt's cousin. She has experienced similar difficulties conceiving and has been especially supportive of our baby making mission. I also remember the words of a friend when I was stressing out about the last pregnancy. She said well shouldn't you just enjoy knowing you are pregnant now and worry about it if and when you need to.

The next day I'm my tiny bit of pregnancy joy is crushed by the sight of some light bleeding. I can't believe it - one day of enjoying it (kind of) only to start with the bleeding again. I tell myself to wait and see what the numbers say tomorrow when I get the second blood test. I remind myself a high number of pregnancies have bleeding in the early stages and try to calm down about it. Try to enjoy just knowing that I'm pregnant. Try to remember the first time, when I was genuinely excited at this stage and when the doctor told you spotting was normal and you believed them.

Matt rings me on Thursday night and I tell him that I'm pregnant. He is excited. And then I tell him that I'm spotting again. All Matt can say is "you're joking" and not in a ha ha kind of way.

On Friday I go in for my second test. Again when I ring the specialist my result is awesome with my HCG having more than doubled to 440. I speak to the specialist about the bleeding and he again tells me it is common and not to worry about it, unless it is gets heavier or comes with abdominal pain.

Matt gets home from camp and we decide that we will tell our immediate family - explaining that there is still a chance that there could be problems, but that the numbers look good. I can tell even they are getting used to the loss. They want to be happy for us, but we are all tentative.

The best thing for me about this pregnancy being IVF is that unlike my other two pregnancies, where basically there is no monitoring, an IVF pregnancy means I have access to as much monitoring as I can reasonably book. With my concern about the bleeding, my specialist sends me a fist full of blood tests so that I can get tests and check my HCG results as often as I need to keep my mind at ease. Also, it is standard to book an in rooms ultrasound with the fertility specialist for about two weeks after the blood test to make sure the baby is in the right place and hopefully see a heart beat.

Given my specialist has leave booked for when my ultrasound would be due, I'm scheduled to go in a few days earlier than is ideal. While I'm waiting for the ultrasound I get two more blood tests and my HCG numbers are kicking arse.

I'm definitely pregnant, but I don't feel great, and not in a morning sickness kind of way. Just more worry, new worry. I just have to hang in there until I can do the ultrasound and if that is good news, hopefully then I will be able to relax and enjoy it.

Waiting - the home pregnancy test addiction

Not even 2 weeks, only 12 days to wait for confirmation. If you haven't already figured it out, I'm a home pregnancy test sucker. Despite my good friends warning against it, I just can't help it. I must test.

Having a home pregnancy test addiction is expensive. I used up the last of my bulk online order during my first IVF cycle. In preparation for this cycle I bought a three pack of the cheapest I could find when doing the grocery shopping. I have well and truly given up on the expensive in flow tests, these days the pee in the cup and test do the job just fine, or to date they had.

I started home pregnancy testing 1 week after transfer. 1st test - negative after a few minutes. I immediately discard. I have a tiny bit of home pregnancy test discipline, in that if I do a test that is negative, I am capable of waiting 2 days to the next test.

Two days later, 2nd home pregnancy test - negative after a few minutes. Again I immediately discard.

Matt is going away for the week of the blood test and I was hoping that I would have a positive test that I could tell him about before he leaves. Unfortunately, given my 2 day rule, I'm not due for my next test until Tuesday, a day after he has gone. Matt has told me he'd rather not know and just wait for the blood test - I can't understand that, surely if you can know earlier, you'd want to know.

In a new home pregnancy low, I find myself hours later pulling the test out of the bin. To my surprise I find the test is now indicating positive. This of course does not make me happy. All the rules in testing say do not read a result that appears after 10 minutes (clearly this needs to explicitly be added to the instructions for all the crazy women who dig tests out of the bin). This is well after 10 minutes, but I immediately discarded after about 2 minutes, so did a line appear somewhere between 2 and 10 minutes?

Clearly I now have grounds to retest after just 1 day breaking my only home pregnancy test rule.

The next day I test after a couple of minutes there is still no line. Instead of immediately discarding I wait. I have a shower and start peering past the shower curtain every minute to see if a line is appearing. Eventually the test is in the shower with me, of course carefully held out of the way of the shower. I stare at the test. I think there is a line. It is faint, but faint is sill positive. I think it is positive, but I'm still uncertain.

Stupid three pack of cheap tests. Now I've used them all up and I still don't know if I'm pregnant. I decide not to tell Matt - just in case.

Another day before the blood test and I'm so nervous.

Last cycle I convinced myself I'd prefer to know before I went in for the blood test, or at least have an idea. I've learned this cycle that having the positive home pregnancy test doesn't make you feel better going in to your blood test. All it does it bring you to a new range of worries.

My first frozen embryo transfer

I was astonished by how quickly I recovered from my gallbladder surgery. Within a couple of days it was as though it had never happened. My fertility specialist was happy for me to proceed in my next cycle with a frozen embryo transfer.

Given that my cycle is reasonably reliable, the specialist is happy for me to do a natural cycle. I'm stoked that I don't need to take any drugs at all for the first half of my cycle, I just let my body do what it does naturally.

Once my period started I let my fertility specialist know. It is then a case of monitoring. I need to go for regular blood tests to check my hormone levels are where they should be and need to have a couple of ultrasounds in my specialist's office to confirm my uterus lining is appropriately thick. It was doing these scans that I discovered I was ovulating on the left side, the side that lost the fallopian tube as a result of the ectopic pregnancy in February. I'm kind of pleased about that. Although it is possible for the right fallopian tube to pick up the egg from the left ovary (that is freaky right, but those fallopian tubes are apparently limber little suckers with fingers on the end and can just sweep over to the other side of the uterus to pick up the egg!), I figure it isn't all that likely, so feel extremely justified in my decision to proceed with IVF treatment.

Once we know I'm about to ovulate, we have to make the decision about how many embryos to thaw - 1 or 2. The specialist is all about 1 healthy baby is the ideal outcome, and therefore a singleton pregnancy is the best chance of achieving a healthy baby. However, I'm thinking, I've just put 1 embryo back in and nothing happened, and I've already had one miscarriage, perhaps if I put 2 back in, I'll actually get the 1 we all want.

Matt and I decide we will thaw our best embryo and our worst embryo to put 2 back in. We also decide that if one succumbs during the thaw, that we won't thaw another, we will just put the 1 back in. It is pretty exciting at this point, every day I get to speak to a scientist in the lab and hear how my embryos are progressing. Both are developing well, however 1 is a little slower than it should be.

Come transfer day I go to work as usual, and then a half hour before I'm due at the hospital I log off and let my team know I'll be on mobile for the rest of the afternoon. It is a beautiful mid August Brisbane day. It is ekka time and the days are stunning, clear blue skies and warm. I walk up to the hospital in Spring Hill, stopping in at my specialist's office to drop off some paperwork.

Matt is meeting me there, but I have time to get changed into my gorgeous hospital gown before he had arrived. When Matt arrives he quickly slips on his hospital attire over his clothes and before you know it we are being lead into the theatre. Thankfully there is only my specialist and nurse in the theatre so I can assume the transfer position without too much embarrassment. Matt is in the husband chair holding my hand.

The scientist comes in and tells us that both embryos have progressed to morula stage. They are 5 days old and ideally should be blastocysts by now. My specialist tells me not to be too concerned and the scientists assures us they were both still developing well and could literally be blastocysts in a matter of hours.

A quick turkey baster job medical style and 2 tiny embryos are inside trying to make themselves comfortable. I have hold the transfer position for another few embarrassing minutes while the lab quickly check the turkey baster under a microscope to ensure the embryos actually did make it out. Given the all clear I'm off the table and covered up in moments.

My doctor walks us out and wishes us all the best. He lets me know I can do a blood test in 12 days to confirm if I am pregnant.

I slip back into my normal clothes and then sit for the compulsory half hour rest period in the recovery lounge sucking down ginger ale - that I kindly share with Matt  :)

Again the wait begins.