Post transfer anxiety

Today I've gone into full swing post transfer anxiety.

This morning I was still really chuffed about how awesome transfer went. I think I have mentally convinced myself I'm pregnant. That could be good or bad. But the problem is stuff is making me really anxious.

Stuff like annoying work stuff, annoying people, people wanting me to have a wine with them, people asking why I'm not going to running training, the guy who asked if I rode to work yesterday.

I just decided the riding and running training wasn't worth the risk. I've reverted to strolling over from the South bank train station will have to do.

But how many ways can I wiggle out of a wine.

Ughhhhh. Some days you just need chocolate. It makes ever so many things a little bit better.

Chocolate to die for - one of my favourite local shops.

Blogged on the run courtesy of blogger app.

New cycle in full swing

Last week I started the official part of this cycle, blood tests. I was tested on Monday, Wednesday, Friday and then finally this Monday when I got the result I was looking for, I would ovulate on Tuesday. Yay! Last week I also had an ultrasound to check my uterus lining was the right thickness, and all was good in that in department.

And with that, our frozen embryo transfer has been scheduled for Saturday!

So, yesterday our embryos were going to be thawed. We've made the decision to have two transferred if we have two survive the thaw.

I've been feeling really positive and excited about the transfer, but this time is when I start to get a little tense. Now I have to see how our embryos are going. I literally just rang the lab to get an update on my embryos. Both embryos survived the thaw fully intact, however only one has started to grow. We have a 9 cell and a 6 cell, both grade 3 embryos. This is not the result I really want. I want to ring and hear - your embryos are awesome, they are growing like wild fire, they are babies in the making. Instead, I got, we are going to ring your doctor to see if we should thaw another embryo to be sure you have two to transfer.

Oh well, there is nothing to be done for it. We can only work with what we've got, and I can only hope that by Saturday there are still embryos to work with.

Playing it cool

My first embryo transfer for 2012 is going to be upon me before I know it. I have been surprised by how excited I am about it. I literally feel giddy with the excitement. By my calculations, I expect that within approximately 3 weeks the time will be right for transfer.

I race ahead quickly in my mind... I see photos of pregnant ladies and I think about how I might look with a big pregnant belly. I look up ball park due dates. I contemplate the chances of having double trouble and how hard that might be. I wonder if I'll still be able to ride my bike to work.

Amongst all of these excited thoughts the scary then creeps in. There is every likelihood this transfer will end like all of my other pregnancies. The transfer might not work at all. Even worse - perhaps everything works and we make it past the first trimester, only to have something go wrong later.

I feel happy one moment and then anxious the next.

I tell myself - be cool about it. Go with the flow. It is all out of your hands. If it is meant to be it will be. The self talk helps for a little while and the whole cycle of thinking starts again. It seems that rational does not help when you've had several tastes of horrible.

But right now I'm excited! I wonder what I'll look like with a be pregnant belly? I wonder if I'll feel sick? I wonder if I'll enjoy being pregnant

A wee bit over waiting to get knocked up

We had planned to have another round of embryo transfers this month. I'd started to get pretty excited about it and happy with the anticipation and hope of maybe getting pregnant and having a baby. Having taken a break for soooooo long, it occurred to me that when I rang the fertility specialist's office to book in for the cycle that I should ask if he had holidays planned. Of course, he does, right when I would due to have the embryo transfer.

Bugger! It's definitely at times like these I miss my fallopian tubes and the old fashion way of baby-making.

There is nothing to be done for it, we just have to wait another month. The first chance we have to try again I will probably be 37. That's right, another year will tick over.

I'm trying not to get to hung up on the age thing. I'm trying having a balanced view of all the impacting factors. So the good news is I've been doing really well on the weight loss front. I have lost the 10kgs I set as my birthday target. I have another few weeks before transfer (and my birthday) I am thinking I could loose another 2-4kgs, which surely can only help.

The best part of the weight loss is that I'm generally feeling a lot fitter and healthier. Thinking back to last year I felt so exhausted and run down. This year I've had a lot more energy. I don't want to jinx it, but I haven't even had so much as a sniffle this winter!

Heading into my next transfer I'll be:

1. 1 year older
2. 10 kilos lighter (at least)
3. A tiny bit less crazy/obsessed 
4. A shit tip fitter.

In the balance of things, I feel like it will be in the favour of fertility.

Full IVF cycle part 3 - the big days

Given that I have an laparoscopic surgery in February, that involved actual incisions in my body, the idea of being knocked out while the doctor needles me a number of times to suck out my eggs seems pretty low key.

I roll in to the day theatres an hour or so before I'm due to have the egg pick up procedure. I'm given my hospital gown, slippers, hair net and undies and a plastic bag to put my normal clothes in. I get into the hospital gear and am lead into a communal lounge room, all the while carrying around my personal possessions in my plastic bag.

The anesthetist leads me to a pre op consult room and proceeds to scare the bejesus out of me about all the things that can go wrong under general and then asks me to sign a disclaimer that states I've been advised of the dangers. My fertility specialist then comes in and asks if I've got any questions. He has the complete opposite effect to the scary anesthetist. I feel calmed and excited at the same time.

I walk myself, towing my plastic bag of personal possessions, into the theatre. My personal possessions are put on a trolley in the corner and I jump up on the bed.

While I've been preparing for my procedure, Matt has been preparing his own contribution. After much consideration, he had decided he would be able to provide his specimen at the hospital, meaning it would be done close to the exact time required. When I was lead off to get changed Matt was walking down a hallway with a brown bag of hospital porn dvds and a sterile jar.

As I'm getting comfortable on the theatre bed the room is filling up. There must be 6 or so people in there, the only 2 I know are my fertility specialist and the scary anesthetist. A scientist introduces themselves and advises they have Matt's specimen and that it was excellent. She tells me in the labs Matt has been declared 'stud of the day'. I laugh and say Matt is going to love that. My doctor is laughing too. Scary anesthetist hasn't cracked a smile. My fertility specialist says I shouldn't tell him as it will go straight to his head.

Next thing the anesthetist is saying 'a little sting' and I'm off to sleep.

I wake up in the recovery ward with my plastic bag of possessions on the bed beside me. After a half hour I'm up and racing, well as racing as one can be when they have ovaries the size of oranges. I change back into my own clothes and head to the communal recovery lounge. Matt arrives pretty soon after. We learn the procedure has picked up 14 eggs and Matt learns he was 'stud of the day'.

We head home just a couple of hours after we arrive. I'm a bit steady, having many of the hyperstimulation symptoms, but I'm operational.

The next day our fertility specialist rings to tell us that of our 14 eggs an incredible 11 have fertilised and that embryo transfer will go ahead as planned the following day.

On the day of the embryo transfer the embryo lab call me and say I have 11 embryos, all either grade 3 or 4 (on a 5 point scale with 5 being the highest). Some of 4 cells, some are only 2 cells. Basically, this is awesome. I have a lot of really good quality embryos to choose from. I let them know to pick the best looking one to be transferred back in.

Throughout the IVF process you are reminded about natural attrition. My specialist has advised me that every step usually only 50 - 70% progress. Therefore, of 14 eggs, I'd hoped at least 10 would fertilise. I hoped we would have 6 viable embryos at the end of the full cycle. To have 11 embryos, and of such high quality, was exceptional.

Matt and I head back into the hospital where we both suit up into the medical gear. For the transfers the husbands/partners are invited to come into the theatre. We head in together and I jump back up on the bed. Matt takes a seat in the well placed husband's chair so he can hold my hand but not see the medical component.

Transfers are basically painless although they are a little embarrassing. No anesthetic is required and it is all over in a matter of minutes however, one does have to bare all. Modesty is not a helpful quality when it comes to embryo transfers.

Afterwards we get changed and rest for about a half an hour in the recovery lounge. The first half hour of two weeks of waiting before we will know if the physical and emotional roller coaster of the injecting, tablets, pessaries, bloating, nausea, scary anesthetists, blood tests, prodding and scanning delivers the result we are hoping for.