Transfer Day
Day Before Transfer: Get bloodwork and ultrasound done. Receive phone call about time to come in the next day.
Before bed on the day of transfer: load up this turkey baster-like object with Vandazole gel and shoot it all up in my vagi-sness.
Morning of transfer: Insert progesterone suppository, which, btw, comes with no applicator or instructions. Other than to make sure you wear a pad because the suppository will burst while inside you.
Does this sound like fun yet?
No, really, none of it was that bad. The progesterone injections still take the cake so far.
At around 9:30 on the 31, I still hadn't gotten a call confirming what time to take the suppository. I called and left a voice mail. Shortly thereafter, the same amazingly nice woman who I had spoken to the previous day called back.
"I saw that my sister Shauna called, and I was like, 'Oh no, I can't have her being confused!'" She explained that she works in embryology; the second woman who had called me was a nurse. The nurse wouldn't have known about the changes that the embryology department made in their schedule. So 10:00 was still shove that shit up there time. She was so caring and empathetic, though. It made me feel a lot better about the day.
My parents and my husband all went with me to the clinic. Sure, it's unusual to have that amount of people with you, but who's going to turn down more support? There was a receptionist at the desk when we walked in (which is unusual; normally, you have to go up to the second floor for that), and she was possibly nicer than the woman on the phone. She couldn't get over how the whole family had come out. She rained blessings and good vibes on us.
We went into the waiting room, where my parents stayed; then hubby and I went in for the procedure. Had to put on a hospital gown facing backwards and get on the bed, half sitting, half lying down. They ask you to come in with a full bladder because the procedure has to be done that way (not sure why). I was ready to burst and was glad to be told by the nurse who scanned my bladder (a really quick, uninvasive thing done by placing a little machine on the skin above the bladder) that I wouldn't have to drink any more water.
I elected to have laser acupuncture done that day for a small (is that the right word?) fee. It's done both before and after the transfer, and "may increase implantation rates." Who are we to turn away anything that's going to help after going through all of this? I had no idea what to expect out of this. I get acupuncture weekly. Would I lay down on a bed and have little green laser beams shot at me?
Alas, no. I sat in the same hospital bed, and a little woman rolled a cart into the room. She, hubby, and I all had to wear these rather large glasses. Then she used what's called an acupuncture pen (literally just learned that as I googled the process) to I guess shoot lasers through me. You can't feel anything at all, other than the pen pressing against your skin. It took maybe five minutes, which is sort of obscene for what I paid.
When that was over, we waited another 10-15 for someone to come in. Finally, in came a bearded doctor and two nurses rolling a baby incubator along with them. The doctor greeted us with smiles and handshakes and so much joy in his eyes. He handed hubby a picture of our embryo, which he said looked very healthy. All the pictures we've looked at of blastocysts online are very circular, but ours has a sort of bubbly, floweriness to it. Kind of weird, but if he says it's good, I'll take it being a bit different.
He explained the process before performing the ugly, mundane bits. Speculum in to prop me open and all. I'm not a particularly religious person, but I've been trying to be more spiritual with all of this going on. Before every single thing he did, he gave a positive and unobnoxious "God bless."
(Even though I'm not too religious, I was raised Jewish. I knew this doctor was Jewish, as well. I looked him up later and saw that he's actually an ordained Orthodox rabbi, which I thought was pretty cool. A good "sign," if you will. I'm looking for a lot of signs these days.)
In the incubator was a petri dish of some kind of gel, and in that was the embryo. There was a magnifying screen hooked up to it so we could see a dot in the middle of the dish. A catheter was used to suck the dot up, which we could see. Then that catheter was inserted in me (ugh, so much inserting that day!), and we could see that appear on the ultrasound I was hooked up to. Then the gel is shot out of the end of the tube, and suddenly, what looks like a flash of light appears in the uterus. It's really a white glob, but the white against so much ultrasound black looks really cool.
And that flash of light is the embryo being deposited.
So we basically witnessed on a screen the conception of our child. (I know, not technically conception, because the embryo was already created, but let me wax poetic here about how beautiful it was, okay?)
We got to see this little life starting.
And that was pretty much that. They all wished us luck, cleaned up, and finally let me pee, I had the second round of laser accupuncture, and I came home.
I gotta admit, seeing them put my embryo into my uterus was awesome and beautiful and humbling. How many people get to see their fertilized embryos outside of their bodies before they go in? How many people get to see that embryo landing in their uterus? (Logically, slightly more than 1% of pregnant people, as my doctor told me 1% of all pregnancies these days are IVF.) So few. We are lucky in that respect.
Things To Worry About
I am a big coffee drinker. At the transfer, I was given instructions to follow, and one of those was to drink less than two cups of coffee a day.
"Define cups," I asked the nurse who was presenting this all to me.
"8 ounces," she said in a nursey tone.
"So I can have 15 ounces of coffee a day?"
"Maybe 8."
"But the instructions say less than two cups, and a cup is 8 ounces so... what about 12?"
"Maybe. But maybe not all at once."
Haha! Victory is mine.
Of course, I did the stupidest possible thing and went online and posted in Facebook groups about caffeine and googled some things. A lot of people said they cut caffeine out entirely after their transfers, but some of them still had failed transfers. Some people didn't cut it all out and had failed transfers, but they knew it wasn't because of the caffeine. A friend who's a nurse said I really should cut down. And what about tea? What if I've had my 12 ounces of coffee for the day and want to have another hot beverage with my afternoon sitting my butt on the couch reading session? Some people have said herbal teas are really not recommended during pregnency, as I guess some herbs can have a negative effect on unborn children.
Someone once told hubby and I that decaf coffee only removes about 40% of the caffeine, but some more internet research told me that this is absolutley not true, there's very little caffeine in decaf. So I ran out the next day and bought some, and I'm mixing that with 4-5 ounces of high test a day now.
Then there's the exercise factor. I'm big on working out - high impact, high intensity, weight lifting, hard stuff. My instructions say I can do "moderate activity," which to me means Zumba or some kickboxing that I don't put my full effort into. I knew all of that was probably too much, but what about just some Leslie Sansone style power walking? Again, some people said you should do activity, some said they sat on the couch and did a lot of nothing. Some more googling suggests that "moderate activity" basically means going back to your normal daily activities, like washing dishes and putting them away. You can do some walking, but you don't want to raise your body temperature much. So I'm not working out at all for a little while.
My back is getting tired of so much sitting. My bruises aren't too fond of it, either.
More Medical Things
I had my first round of post-transfer bloodwork on the 2. A voice mail told me that my progesterone levels are great, a 29, and I think they want them to be at least 20. Google tells me this is consistent with the progesterone levels of a woman who's 5-6 weeks pregnant. Unfortunately, though, all this really tells us is that my body is absorbing the injections well. Without knowing my hCG levels, it doesn't confirm anything.
I go for a pregnancy test on Wednesday, so that's when I'll know for "sure," although I think if it comes out positive, I'll have to go in again on Friday to make sure my levels are raising consistently. (If it comes out negative, from what I understand, I stop taking all of my hormones, and I hear from the clinic in 3-4 weeks. They need that much time to review my case. Honestly, though, if it all goes tits up and I don't get checked in on by someone, I might go completely insane.)
I know, I know. Don't think negatively. I'm not most of the time, but I also want to be realistic. This isn't 100% guaranteed; it's 65% (maybe plus) guaranteed. Decent odds, but not perfect. So optimistic, but not stupidly insistent that it's worked.
And how am I feeling? Not a huge amount different than normal. I have a few very minor cramps and stomach pains, but that's normal post transfer. My insides have been and are continuing to be all screwed around with. I occasionally in the morning feel maybe like I'm a little nautious, but it's too early for morning sickness.
A really interesting thing, and sorry if it's TMI, is I'm not bleeding at all. A lot of women bleed with implantation, but not all. But I'd imagine if this doesn't take, I'd see some signs of my body trying to get rid of that, and there's nothing. Hoping that's a good sign.
Hoping all the signs are good.
Hoping.
Before bed on the day of transfer: load up this turkey baster-like object with Vandazole gel and shoot it all up in my vagi-sness.
Morning of transfer: Insert progesterone suppository, which, btw, comes with no applicator or instructions. Other than to make sure you wear a pad because the suppository will burst while inside you.
Does this sound like fun yet?
No, really, none of it was that bad. The progesterone injections still take the cake so far.
At around 9:30 on the 31, I still hadn't gotten a call confirming what time to take the suppository. I called and left a voice mail. Shortly thereafter, the same amazingly nice woman who I had spoken to the previous day called back.
"I saw that my sister Shauna called, and I was like, 'Oh no, I can't have her being confused!'" She explained that she works in embryology; the second woman who had called me was a nurse. The nurse wouldn't have known about the changes that the embryology department made in their schedule. So 10:00 was still shove that shit up there time. She was so caring and empathetic, though. It made me feel a lot better about the day.
My parents and my husband all went with me to the clinic. Sure, it's unusual to have that amount of people with you, but who's going to turn down more support? There was a receptionist at the desk when we walked in (which is unusual; normally, you have to go up to the second floor for that), and she was possibly nicer than the woman on the phone. She couldn't get over how the whole family had come out. She rained blessings and good vibes on us.
We went into the waiting room, where my parents stayed; then hubby and I went in for the procedure. Had to put on a hospital gown facing backwards and get on the bed, half sitting, half lying down. They ask you to come in with a full bladder because the procedure has to be done that way (not sure why). I was ready to burst and was glad to be told by the nurse who scanned my bladder (a really quick, uninvasive thing done by placing a little machine on the skin above the bladder) that I wouldn't have to drink any more water.
I elected to have laser acupuncture done that day for a small (is that the right word?) fee. It's done both before and after the transfer, and "may increase implantation rates." Who are we to turn away anything that's going to help after going through all of this? I had no idea what to expect out of this. I get acupuncture weekly. Would I lay down on a bed and have little green laser beams shot at me?
Alas, no. I sat in the same hospital bed, and a little woman rolled a cart into the room. She, hubby, and I all had to wear these rather large glasses. Then she used what's called an acupuncture pen (literally just learned that as I googled the process) to I guess shoot lasers through me. You can't feel anything at all, other than the pen pressing against your skin. It took maybe five minutes, which is sort of obscene for what I paid.
When that was over, we waited another 10-15 for someone to come in. Finally, in came a bearded doctor and two nurses rolling a baby incubator along with them. The doctor greeted us with smiles and handshakes and so much joy in his eyes. He handed hubby a picture of our embryo, which he said looked very healthy. All the pictures we've looked at of blastocysts online are very circular, but ours has a sort of bubbly, floweriness to it. Kind of weird, but if he says it's good, I'll take it being a bit different.
He explained the process before performing the ugly, mundane bits. Speculum in to prop me open and all. I'm not a particularly religious person, but I've been trying to be more spiritual with all of this going on. Before every single thing he did, he gave a positive and unobnoxious "God bless."
(Even though I'm not too religious, I was raised Jewish. I knew this doctor was Jewish, as well. I looked him up later and saw that he's actually an ordained Orthodox rabbi, which I thought was pretty cool. A good "sign," if you will. I'm looking for a lot of signs these days.)
In the incubator was a petri dish of some kind of gel, and in that was the embryo. There was a magnifying screen hooked up to it so we could see a dot in the middle of the dish. A catheter was used to suck the dot up, which we could see. Then that catheter was inserted in me (ugh, so much inserting that day!), and we could see that appear on the ultrasound I was hooked up to. Then the gel is shot out of the end of the tube, and suddenly, what looks like a flash of light appears in the uterus. It's really a white glob, but the white against so much ultrasound black looks really cool.
And that flash of light is the embryo being deposited.
So we basically witnessed on a screen the conception of our child. (I know, not technically conception, because the embryo was already created, but let me wax poetic here about how beautiful it was, okay?)
We got to see this little life starting.
And that was pretty much that. They all wished us luck, cleaned up, and finally let me pee, I had the second round of laser accupuncture, and I came home.
I gotta admit, seeing them put my embryo into my uterus was awesome and beautiful and humbling. How many people get to see their fertilized embryos outside of their bodies before they go in? How many people get to see that embryo landing in their uterus? (Logically, slightly more than 1% of pregnant people, as my doctor told me 1% of all pregnancies these days are IVF.) So few. We are lucky in that respect.
Things To Worry About
I am a big coffee drinker. At the transfer, I was given instructions to follow, and one of those was to drink less than two cups of coffee a day.
"Define cups," I asked the nurse who was presenting this all to me.
"8 ounces," she said in a nursey tone.
"So I can have 15 ounces of coffee a day?"
"Maybe 8."
"But the instructions say less than two cups, and a cup is 8 ounces so... what about 12?"
"Maybe. But maybe not all at once."
Haha! Victory is mine.
Of course, I did the stupidest possible thing and went online and posted in Facebook groups about caffeine and googled some things. A lot of people said they cut caffeine out entirely after their transfers, but some of them still had failed transfers. Some people didn't cut it all out and had failed transfers, but they knew it wasn't because of the caffeine. A friend who's a nurse said I really should cut down. And what about tea? What if I've had my 12 ounces of coffee for the day and want to have another hot beverage with my afternoon sitting my butt on the couch reading session? Some people have said herbal teas are really not recommended during pregnency, as I guess some herbs can have a negative effect on unborn children.
Someone once told hubby and I that decaf coffee only removes about 40% of the caffeine, but some more internet research told me that this is absolutley not true, there's very little caffeine in decaf. So I ran out the next day and bought some, and I'm mixing that with 4-5 ounces of high test a day now.
Then there's the exercise factor. I'm big on working out - high impact, high intensity, weight lifting, hard stuff. My instructions say I can do "moderate activity," which to me means Zumba or some kickboxing that I don't put my full effort into. I knew all of that was probably too much, but what about just some Leslie Sansone style power walking? Again, some people said you should do activity, some said they sat on the couch and did a lot of nothing. Some more googling suggests that "moderate activity" basically means going back to your normal daily activities, like washing dishes and putting them away. You can do some walking, but you don't want to raise your body temperature much. So I'm not working out at all for a little while.
My back is getting tired of so much sitting. My bruises aren't too fond of it, either.
More Medical Things
I had my first round of post-transfer bloodwork on the 2. A voice mail told me that my progesterone levels are great, a 29, and I think they want them to be at least 20. Google tells me this is consistent with the progesterone levels of a woman who's 5-6 weeks pregnant. Unfortunately, though, all this really tells us is that my body is absorbing the injections well. Without knowing my hCG levels, it doesn't confirm anything.
I go for a pregnancy test on Wednesday, so that's when I'll know for "sure," although I think if it comes out positive, I'll have to go in again on Friday to make sure my levels are raising consistently. (If it comes out negative, from what I understand, I stop taking all of my hormones, and I hear from the clinic in 3-4 weeks. They need that much time to review my case. Honestly, though, if it all goes tits up and I don't get checked in on by someone, I might go completely insane.)
I know, I know. Don't think negatively. I'm not most of the time, but I also want to be realistic. This isn't 100% guaranteed; it's 65% (maybe plus) guaranteed. Decent odds, but not perfect. So optimistic, but not stupidly insistent that it's worked.
And how am I feeling? Not a huge amount different than normal. I have a few very minor cramps and stomach pains, but that's normal post transfer. My insides have been and are continuing to be all screwed around with. I occasionally in the morning feel maybe like I'm a little nautious, but it's too early for morning sickness.
A really interesting thing, and sorry if it's TMI, is I'm not bleeding at all. A lot of women bleed with implantation, but not all. But I'd imagine if this doesn't take, I'd see some signs of my body trying to get rid of that, and there's nothing. Hoping that's a good sign.
Hoping all the signs are good.
Hoping.
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