Wednesday, 25 July 2012

The Mathematics Of IVF Disappointment


Sometimes, when you have put your emotional all into something it still doesn’t work, your last ditch effort still doesn’t fix it. Sometimes things just aren’t meant to be, even when they should be.  

22 Eggs, 19 mature, 13 fertilized, 8 made it to day 3, 6 made it to day 5, One fresh embryo transferred only two suitable left to freeze.

 3 out of 22.

You can’t help but be disappointed; you can’t help but wonder why?

As much as you don’t think you will be emotionally attached as a donor aunty until there is something physically there to see and be attached to, as much as they tell you they can’t promise anything and you say you understand, nothing prepares you for all the what if’s, all the maybe’s and that in the end all you are left with is a bunch of statistics and numbers that steadily decrease along with your hope.

Three.

3 chances:  1 in 3 pregnancies end in miscarriage

Two.

2 chances: Will it even stick? The Fertility Specialists say 50% chance.

One.

1 chance out of 22

I have never been good at maths but I don’t like those odds.

I should be looking on the glass is half full side – 3 chances or even 1 chance is better than none. But it’s really hard to do that when they said my eggs were good, they said BILs sperm was good, so why?

Seven.

Seven more days until we find out if it has worked, find out if she is pregnant.

Tuesday, 17 July 2012

Well, that’s that then.


After two full on weeks and months of preparation, it’s all over.

Kind of anti climatic, so much work up and then all of a sudden my part is done. Finished.

Yesterday around 8am SIL, BIL and I pushed open the double glass doors of the fertility clinic for Egg Pick Up (EPU), it was a surreal feeling -this was make or break time.

The lovely receptionist ushered us through a door and into a little area with a few lockers, a bench seat and doorways leading off from it marked ‘theatre’ and ‘ultrasound’, she indicated towards a third door marked ‘change room’ and gave me a warm smile.

Everything off and then everything on said the receptionist as she pointed to a little blue basket with sexy looking gown, robe, hat and booties in it.
Gorgeous Huh?

After I was all gowned up, they took us through to the recovery area with a couch and hospital bed where we would wait for my turn on the table. We joked nervously with each other for a while taking happy snaps of the three of us together which we could later present to any offspring on their 21st birthdays as the day of their conception.

We had a brief scare when we asked the fertility specialist if it was ok that I was not bloated at all that morning when the previous day I had looked 4 months pregnant not really thinking much of it – the concerned look on her face was quickly covered up by a rather fake looking smile as she said I’m sure its fine and rushed me back into the door marked ‘ultrasound’ where they checked to make sure I hadn’t ovulated earlier than expected – ‘it’s very rare’ she reassured me, ‘but its better we find out now than when we get into theatre...’

Luckily, I’m just a freak and the follicles were all still there panic averted we went back into the recovery/waiting area, briefly saw the embryologist who looked younger than me and the anaesthetist an older man who bore a striking resemblance to Dr Mike from All Saints, then the nurse called me into theatre.

Now I was quite nervous, walking into a huge room with more people than I realised would be there I climbed onto the bed, lay down and the nurse put a warm blanket over me. The anaesthetist held my hand and told me he would now put in a canula to administer my drug cocktail. The FS chatted about random stuff while she waited and I realised the canula was already in, I hadn’t even felt it.

Dr Mike held up a syringe of clear liquid and said now I’m going to give you some happy juice, it will make you feel awesome, like being stoned and he winked, don’t worry, you probably won’t remember this conversation .I got the distinct impression Dr Mike knew exactly what it’s like to feel stoned...
The FS said it takes about 20sec to work, and to tell her when I start to feel it, at that moment my head started spinning, “there it is” I said, ‘that was quick’ she remarked and  I woke up in the recovery area with an oxygen mask on my face.

It’s a very strange feeling to know that you have been totally violated while you slept and upon awakening you wouldn’t have a clue that it had happened if they didn’t tell you. It was a lot better than I expected though a bit of very mild pain in the tummy but more like doing too many sit ups the day before than actual painful pain though going to the toliet hurts like buggery!

My SIL and BIL came in and announced they had harvested an awesome 22 eggs! I had a cup of tea and some toast before having the canulas taken out and being given permission to get dressed again. Once fully clothed and heading out I dignified myself by nearly falling down again – a bit like when you have been drinking all night sitting down then you get up to go to the loo and it hits you all at once.  

We rested at SIL’s place for a while and then she presented me with a huge beautiful bouquet of flowers and drove me back home to the farm and to my darling husband and own bunch of noisy little monkeys that I am so, very lucky to have.

And now it’s done, my part is over and the rest is up to her. I had a call from the clinic this morning who informed me 13 eggs had fertilized which is apparently an excellent result although to be honest I was a bit disappointed that it was only 13 out of 22 possibilities. The next 5 days will see how many make it to blastocyst stage and then they will transfer one to her and freeze the others for future use.

Fingers crossed x

Monday, 16 July 2012

D Day

I have been abit slack on the IVF blogging front, but I will catch you all up at some point.

Meanwhile it's 6:25 am and I'm typing this on my iPhone, my alarm will go off at 6:30 and I have to get ready to leave by 7:30 for Egg Pick up. I stayed the night at SILs place due to recent car trouble ( that's a whole other story) and the fact that being at theclinic late is NOT an option.

On my last appointment there on friday, I had an internal ultrasound which showed 15 large follicles on the right and 7 large on the left plus about 20 little ones.
The ultrasound lady said it was an "enthusiastic result", and I am at risk for OHSS or ovarian hyper stimulation syndrome - essentially that's where your swollen follicle filled ovaries leak fluid into your abdomen.

 Lovely.

So now it's D day, or rather E day, and we will find out how many of those follicles have nice mature eggs in them, and I am silently shitting myself about having an anaesthetic - even though it's not a big one - I have never liked the idea of people fiddling with my body while I'm asleep and I hate the feeling of no control you get from drugs. So it's time to suck it up, go and shower and wish my poor sore mouth had drunk more water before midnight last night.

Wish me luck!!

Thursday, 12 July 2012

Stab Thyself

I stared at the clock about 7:30 last tuesday night and knew that the moment of truth was coming, the lady from the clinic rang in the morning and said my levels were perfect and to take the first GonalF shot after 8pm. Im ok with needles generally, my Dad was a vampire, ahem I mean blood collecter.

 When I was little I used to go in to work with him when he was called in on weekends and watch him do his ward rounds, so blood and needles were just part of life. I worked in a vet clinic and gave immunisations to animals so I had experience there to, however when it comes to actually sticking a needle into your own skin, it becomes an entirely different matter.

The clock struck 8, I had the 'how to' booklet memorised, 8:15 - I could never be a drug addict, god I hope I don't get diabetes, must eat better...
8:20 - ok come on Suzi, the 16yr old kid down the street had been doing it for years (diabetes) if he can do it so can you.

At 8:30 I got the stuff out of the fridge and set it up, The husband was grinning at me, saying "just do it, quick go on! It's not that hard" ha! What would he know.

8:40- I held the needle pen thingy inches from my skin, double checked the dose - still 150... more helpful words from my beloved "give it here, i'll do it, you just stab!" Yeah i dont think so...

8:45 I took another look at the needle and back at my pinched up tummy flubber, ok deep breath, stab thyself. I looked back down, the needle was in, I couldn't even feel it! I pushed the little button on the needle pen, counted to 10 and pulled it out. The dose had been delivered correctly. I did it!!! I was so proud of myself I felt like the kid that just rode the rollercoaster at Disney land for the first time.

Now only approx 20 more needles to go...