Monthly Archives: June 2013

A message to you Body

Dear Body,

I just thought I’d write to thank you for letting me down once again.  I know there have been times when I haven’t been so nice to you.  I’ve partied a little too hard on occasions, have indulged in takeaways, and perhaps haven’t exercised quite as much as I should have but I like to think things are generally ok between us.  We’re somewhat fit (we DO exercise!), our BMI is normal, and on the whole we’ve been eating healthily so why the constant vendetta against me?  Maybe you think I’ve done something really bad in my life that you need to punish me for but honestly I don’t think there’s anything that I’ve done to deserve this.  I get that you like to throw tantrums but really, isn’t two and a bit years enough?  This latest stunt has cost us over ten grand, not to mention the week-by-week costs incurred over the last two years.  Was acupuncture really that bad?  If you could sort your shit out and stop all this nonsense it would be much appreciated. 

Let me know if there’s anything else I can do to rectify the wrongs between us.  You know, if you just behaved and accepted a baby then all these needles and procedures would cease.  OK, I know they’d be replaced by other procedures but they’d be for a limited amount of time.  Would it really be that bad?  Just have a think over what I’ve said and let me know if there’s any possibility that we could get on in the future.

Yours unhappily,



Back on board

Back on board

More devastating news and I’m left wondering if there’s such thing as good news in infertility. It appears other people get it but it just doesn’t seem to happen to us. Out of our two embryos one is currently a 4 cell embryo, and the other is only a two cell (they should both be at least eight). Neither of them look great. We’re still going ahead with the transfer but chances of it actually working are pretty slim. No harm in trying though eh.

Into the clinic we head and after a last minute briefing from the embryologist I’m back in theatre for the transfer. Our doc shows us a photo of the embryo we’re transferring pointing out the cells, and noting the large amount of fragmentation that it also has. This is not a good sign, fragmentation is basically the embryo trying to throw out the trash…..all those little bubbly looking things around the edge, that’s the garbage, and too much of it makes for a rubbish dump not a good embryo. Nevertheless, embie’s on its way to me.

The procedure is much like a smear test with an ultrasound via my belly at the same time. Not at all comfortable when you’ve been instructed to drink at least 750ml of water an hour before the procedure! At least I got to watch it this time….or should I say watch it and remember it! I could see the little catheter going in and a little pift as the embryo was squirted out of it and into me. A quick check by the lab to confirm it’s no longer in the pipe and we’re good to go. The doc wasn’t so reassuring (basically “don’t get your hopes up”) but at least he’s being honest. I’d much rather that and feel realistic for the next 10 days than build up my hopes only to have my dreams crushed once again.

We’re sent home with some progesterone pessaries (these actually turn out to be the worst part of IVF) and the “two week wait” begins.

Dropping like flies

The call from the embryologist came early this morning.  I could tell straight away the news wasn’t great, her tone of voice was a dead giveaway.  Out of nine eggs retrieved only 2 fertilised.  It’s not all bad obviously, we still have two, but to go from nine to two was a bit devastating.  Still, I’m trying to remain positive.  While initially I was hoping to have some to freeze (so we won’t have go through this entire process again) I’m now just praying we have one that makes it to transfer stage.  Five hours ago I was close to euphoric, stoked that we’d got nine eggs, now I’m in a constant state of worry.

What’s making it even worse is that it’s all my fault.  I know it’s not something I can control – I’ve been eating well, exercising, taking the appropriate supplements, getting regular acupuncture – but it’s hard not to feel guilty all the same.  According to the embryologist there’s absolutely nothing wrong with my hubby’s swimmers but 4 of my eggs were immature, 1 was abnormal, and 2 they have no idea about…but they didn’t work.  I’ve known all along that the issues were mine (thanks endo) but to have it reinforced again really sucks.  I’m starting to fear that we’ll be one of those couples forever on the infertility train.

Later in the day comes call number two, and our transfer is booked in for day 3 (in two days’ time).  They don’t want to wait longer than day 3 as I only have two embryo’s and they don’t want to risk them not making it to day 5.  At least we have a plan….fingers crossed it works.

The Ostrich lays her eggs

Wow.  Today we’re making some babies….hopefully.  My last scan showed approximately 10 follicles so fingers crossed for a good number of eggs.  Protocol for today – no food (wah!  I’m so bad without breakfast!), water until 8am then nothing, 3 paracetamol at 9:30am then off to the clinic at 10 for a 10:30am procedure.  And finally my hubby has to do something!  About time, he’s gotten off so lightly over the last couple of months/years!  I’m pretty nervous, initially it was just because I was scared of saying something stupid while pumped full of happy drugs but now it’s the fear of the procedure itself.  I’m sure it will all be fine but it still freaks me out all the same.  For those who don’t know what happens it goes something like this.  Into the clinic for a final run over consent forms and basic checks, a consultation with the doctor and the embryologist, and off I head into theatre.   Unlike my laparoscopy my husband is allowed in with me this time so that reassures me a bit.  Oxygen on, IV in and away we go.  It starts of like a normal internal scan – you get pretty good at these through the infertility process, not counting today’s adventure I’ve had 8 visits with ‘dildocam’ via 6 different doctors (today makes 7 docs) – then they stick a needle through my inside, up to each ovary and suck out the follicles.  Easy as pie.  Wish me luck!

And I’m out again.  All up they extracted 9 eggs which is pretty good going.  Now we just need to wait and see how many of these fertilise, which the embryologist should tell us tomorrow. So other than being spaced out it wasn’t too bad.  Apparently the procedure took about 20 minutes but I really don’t remember any of it after they dosed me up.  I looked over at the ultrasound screen trying to see what was happening and the next thing I know they’re helping me up and out to the recovery room.  So weird.  I’m gutted I didn’t get to see them sucking the follicles out, that would’ve been cool, I guess I’ll have to rely on hubby for the details, but if I have to go through this again he is definitely filming it for me.

To tell you the truth it’s really bugging me that I don’t remember it.  According to my husband I didn’t say too much (phew) but claimed I felt spaced out, and winced a couple of times, I guess when they jabbed through the (in)side of me to get to my ovaries.  I was looking forward to seeing them sucked out too but on the up side it’s good at least one ‘parent’ was lucid enough to be paying attention.  After half an hour and some tea and toast I’m allowed home.  I’ve spent the day on the couch watching TV, trying to read, and having a really really long nap.  It certainly takes it out of you, I was knackered!  And now the waiting begins…..a day to find out the number fertilised, 5 days until they put one back in then the dreaded waiting to find out if it’s worked.  Even though so much of this infertility experience is about waiting you never really get used to it….or maybe it’s just that I’m impatient.  If only I could nap through it.


The last injection….The trigger shot! Used to start the ovulation process ready for egg collection.


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