Scan day. I’m nervous yet again but luckily both my scan and my donor’s scan are early in the morning so I won’t have to agonise for long. It feels like everything is hinging on this moment, could this actually go to plan? At 8:20 I’m ushered into the scan room by a doctor I haven’t seen before (that’s one more to chalk up to the ‘seen my bits’ tally) and told to hop up on the bed. I know the drill but each doc is different so we shuffle this way and that until she’s happy then it’s “Hello Mr Dildocam, how (un)lovely to see you today!.” Ouch, she’s brutal. You’d think a female doing this would have a bit more care and respect but no, seems Mr D. Cam is in a rough mood today.
I hold my breath, pleading silently that my lining is doing what it’s supposed to, preparing itself for an embryo. It seems to take forever but phew, my lining is looking perfect. I let go of my breath. “Now let’s check out your ovaries” the doc says. OK, I guess you need to make sure they’re behaving. “There’s four follicles on that side, annnnnnd one on the other”. She seems confused. I’m bemused. I couldn’t care less how many follicles I have as long as they’re not going to interfere with our cycle, but she’s forgotten that we’re doing a donor cycle hasn’t she…..or maybe she just hasn’t read our notes because next she’s asking me if I’m taking anything. Ummmmmm, besides the stuff you guys have given me to take?!? I tell her what her co-workers have prescribed me and she seems pleased. What a shambles. Nevermind, one more box ticked.
We bump into our donor on our way out and have a chat. It’s always so awkward meeting at the clinic – it just seems so surreal, and not normally a place I’d choose to hang out with my friends. I feel bad leaving but there’s not a lot we can do there. We head off to work and anxiously await the call with the result of her scan.
She texts us around half an hour later. It’s not as good as she was hoping, 8 follicles and only 3 larger ones, but that doesn’t sound too bad to me. It’s hard because we hear accounts from overseas where people get upwards of 20 eggs a cycle but it seems we just don’t stimulate that much (or stimulate people differently) here. Personally I think we’re too conservative. If you’re paying all that money and going through all the procedures you want the best chance you can. OHSS is of course an issue, but other countries don’t seem to have massively higher numbers of this than we do do they? I guess it quality not quantity that matters in the end though right!
The future looks uncertain but we soldier on. Two days later and our donor is off for another scan. I’m just about to head into an acupuncture session when the call comes in. It’s my doctor rather than the nurses (who normally call) which isn’t a good sign. The number of decent sized follicles has dropped to two with a few smaller ones lagging behind. We’re given a choice: 1) continue stimming for a few more days to try and catch the smaller follicles up – not a great option as the larger follicles will most likely steal all the stim goodness, and will then be too large/old to be of use to us; 2) cancel the cycle completely and start from scratch at a later date; 3) trigger our donor that evening and hope for the best. We choose hope.
I’m glad our doctor phoned. I makes me feel like our clinic actually care about us, and that he is determined to see us through to our goal of being parents. He reassures me there’s still hope, and that the nurses will give me a call later with more details. Eek! This is it!