Thursday 21 February 2013

Roar, roar, roar

Let's just get one thing straight: I'm NOT over the IVF thing ok!

Two throw away comments yesterday reduced me to a howling, snotty, angry mess last night, and they came from people who should know better. Just because I'm trying VERY HARD to get on with my life, to be positive and happy, it does not mean that I'm over it - far from it. Those two stupid comments have made me feel like I've taken a step backwards and I once again have that heavy, suffocating feeling. I'm writing this on the train into work and I just want to turn back and head straight for my duvet.

My lovely, darling, amazing Hubster decided to share a how to get pregnant tip with me last night: a chap he knows whose wife got pregnant in no time at all (I swear she just looked at his willy and she was up the duff - women like that really p*ss me off right now - I told you - I'm feeling angry!) Anyhow, this chap shared a sex tip with my Hubster yesterday and for some reason unbeknownst to me; my Hubster shared this tip with me. After sex, if I raise my hips and do bicycle legs for 15 minutes, I'll get pregnant! REALLY?!?! Well why on earth didn't someone share that nugget of information with the world ages ago? It would've saved thousands of women like me all the hassle and inconvenience of daily injections, hot flushes, mood swings, insomnia, OHSS, egg collection, having your foof on display for what feels likes all the world to see, fake pregnancy symptoms and then the heart-break and emotional trauma of a nasty, heavy painful period.  

Well knock me down, why didn't you tell me that before I decided to put myself through hell with IVF? Jeez, if I knew that the bicycle legs made that much difference, not only would I have amazingly toned legs but I'd also have a brood of mini-mes driving me demented!

Infertility is about so much more than post-coital bicycle legs. So here's my warning, do not insult me by giving me shonky advice such as that: IT DOESN'T HELP! I've tried every goddam trick in the book (although not the bicycle legs I must admit).

  • Pee sticks to monitor ovulation
  • Checking if I have egg white cervical mucus every month so I know when the Hubster and I need to get jiggy
  • I don't get shitfaced every weekend
  • I eat healthily
  • I take nine, yes nine different vitamins/minerals every day (some even get a double dose) - see below for pictorial evidence
  • I quit the fags (best move I've ever made)
  • I'm quite fit and go to the gym (admittedly I'm yet to go this year but me thinks I've had a decent enough excuse don't you?)
  • And yes - I stick my legs up in the air after a bit of jiggy if you must know. 

Argh - you have no idea how angry I am today - no idea what damage stupid comments like that can do to my recovery. I shouted angry tears at my Hubster yesterday as he unwittingly told me this tip - my poor Hubster - it's not his fault - he's the last person I want to hurt in all of this. 

It's all so raw what I'm feeling and despite my honest blog people still tell me their stupid tit-bits of advice - just because they got pregnant in no time at all - well bully for you - aren't you the lucky ones? Anyone who thinks I am over the IVF can think again. This time last week I could barely drag myself out of bed, I was bleeding so heavily I had to change pads every two hours (yes - I had to go back to the days of being a teenager and use pads - thank goodness for always ultra is all I can say - but every two hours is ridiculous - that is how heavy and painful my failed IVF cycle was). I was convinced I was pregnant; our referral to Kings ACU happened over a year ago, my due date would've been 23 October 2013. So you see in my head I should be pregnant now and complaining about morning sickness but I'm not, how on earth do you expect me to be over it that goddam quickly?

So despite everyone thinking I am strong and amazing for sharing this with the world, I in fact feel weak. I want to hit and punch and scream. I'm trying oh so hard to be happy, and jolly and positive but be mindful of what drivel comes out of your mouth when you speak to me. Just because I'm trying to be happy and have a positive outlook, it doesn't mean I'm in a good place emotionally. Whilst Googling "emotional impact of failed IVF" I stumbled across a blog entry that articulates VERY well how a woman feels after a failed IVF cycle, this lady hits the nail on the head and I encourage you to have a read. If you have a friend who is going through IVF and it doesn't work out take care of her heart - she needs you more than you realise, even if she doesn't answer your calls, just knowing that you are there is enough. The IVF roller-coaster doesn't stop the moment you have to face the reality of not being able to get pregnant even with all the help of very clever scientists; I actually think this is when the real roller-coaster starts as you're unable to blame the hormones that you willing pump into yourself, it’s just your emotions - give me down regulation over this any day - I at least had hope then, now I feel empty (and yes - I know I can have another go before you say anything).

Today I just want to hide. Today I want to cry gut wrenching tears that make you hyperventilate and make you sick. Today I am sad. Today I am heavy and I feel like I'm suffocating with grief. Tomorrow is another day and I hope I don't feel as bad as I do today. Thank goodness for small mercies such as a backlog of work I need to catch up on - I need as much distraction from this pain as I can get.

Tuesday 19 February 2013

What a difference a week makes

It's a week since I first realised that our first IVF cycle had ended with a nasty, heavy, heartbreaking period. In retrospect, not having the opportunity to use one of the eight pregnancy tests I'd bought compounded my woe. Life just isn't fair: FACT.

BUT there is a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel.

I won't lie, last week was hell on earth, I have no idea how I would've gotten through it if it wasn't for my wonderful Hubster. He really is my rock. I pretty much lost the power of speech and found myself only being able to speak to him or my bessie Emma. My bessie is expecting her first baby, we were all 200% convinced that our IVF cycle was going to work as I'm so healthy and our issues are with the Hubster; my bessie and I were soooooo excited about having our babies together and going on maternity leave together. I guess it just wasn't meant to be this time round.

My other wonderful friends have been persisting with the missed phonecalls and texts, I just haven't had the strength to speak to them. Texting, emailing even blogging are easier than actually speaking about it. Today is the first day since it happened that I haven't woken up with the choking, heavy hearted, suffocating feeling, and I finally felt strong enough to go back to work.

I am feeling angry though.

Very angry.

I'm angry at myself for truly believing I was pregnant when I obviously wasn't. I'm angry at myself for not listening to words of advice from friends who have also experienced IVF loss: the drugs screw with your body more than you realise. I'm angry at the doctor who pulled rank and did the transfer with the new, softer catheter - if the lovely Indian lady doctor had done the transfer as planned would my mini-me now be a permanent fixture? Who knows but what I do know is that this anger isn't going to do me any good so I'm dealing with it - anger turns to hate and I don't want to hate.

I've received so many lovely kind messages from all of my friends and I'm really glad that they weren't the type of messages that I didn't want to hear - apart from one. A friend who I had started to drift apart from replied to a text I sent the weekend prior to us finding out the IVF hadn't worked. I told her about my heartbreak and sorrow (it was very, very raw for me last Wednesday), given how I felt her response knocked me for six (and I'm still reeling from it). Having spent the day howling and knicker checking, feebly trying to cling on to my PMA - getting a message that said I shouldn't let it rip me apart, I need to chin up, this could take years and I should take up yoga and have a hot bath did not help. I'm not sure what she was thinking when she sent that message but there was zero empathy in that message, zero understanding about what grief is; in my opinion it's an illustration of why we have drifted apart as friends. How anyone can think that telling your (apparent) friend in her time of sorrow and heartbreak to chin-up, this might take years would be of any comfort is beyond me? Think it by all means but have the tact not to actually say it. Her response baffled me and I still can't work it out. IVF is much, much more than a few injections - it is a process where you put all of your eggs in one basket and when it fails, you can feel the hope being ripped out of you, and the pain is horrid. 

So - what next?

I went back to work today and my lovely colleagues kept me well stocked in tea, chocolate and giggles - just what the doctor ordered. Yesterday was the first day since it happened that I didn't cry, I did cry today - but only briefly. I'm starting to feel strong enough to face the world again and to contemplate what my Hubster and I will do next with regards to making a mini-me... Obviously we will try the traditional method :) We're both so healthy at the moment the Hubster's super swimmers may find their way to one of my eggs all by themselves - wouldn't that be amaze balls?!?! I'm back on the agnus castus to help encourage ovulation and to help get myself back on track asap - a batch of 30 pee sticks are winging their way to me so I'm ready and waiting to get tracking my cycle again. I'm going to throw myself into the gym - having stopped running to help with fertility issues two years ago I've decided that I need to start running again, it makes me feel amazing and I need all the endorphins I can get my hands on.

Our follow up is 14 March - I'm writing my questions down so I can make sure I know what we can do for our frozen embryo transfer (FET) cycle. I think this will be natural with a only a few HCG shots and progesterone pessaries so I guess it will be easier for us to handle? I want to know how many embryos they defrost at once? What if all of them are defrosted, they all survive and I can only put one back in - what happens with the rest? It seems every which way you turn with IVF you have more questions, questions, questions...

Till next time you lovely lot, to all of you who have left me kind, heart warming messages - thank you. Your love is helping me heal and although I didn't think it last week - positivity is the way forward - you've all helped me remember just how strong I am. To my wonderful friend Mel in Jersey - thank you for our delicious chocolate brownies - I can't wait to give you a big fat hug when I see you next week. All of your support has been phenomenal - you've made me feel strong when I've needed it most. And to my two other friends who have also had failed cycles pretty much within a week either side of my failed cycle - keep the faith - 2013 is our year.

Catch ya later :) x

Thursday 14 February 2013

Crumbling

15 days post egg collection, 10 days post embryo transfer

It wasn't meant to be like this, I wasn't supposed to start spotting 8 days after our mini-me was transferred, the spotting wasn't supposed to turn from brown to red, and the red spotting wasn't supposed to turn into a heavy, painful period but it has: the IVF hasn't worked and I'm heartbroken, devastated, grief-stricken and I'm heavy - oh so heavy. My arms and legs are heavy but most heavy is my heart, I can feel it breaking.

My friends were amazing last weekend, all of them rose to challenge of distracting me - I was happy to watch them drink booze whilst I drunk elderflower, I even tried half a Guinness on Saturday and I thought it was the foulest thing I'd ever tasted (anyone who knows me, knows how much I love my Guinness). This along with boobs changing, twinges down below and spotting a few days after transfer all convinced me I was pregnant, I even started thinking we might have identical twins. Silly Jojo - I should've known better than to run away with myself. 

I've never really felt heartbroken before, but I do now. I've never howled like I have howled over the past two days and I'm crying writing this now. I so wanted our mini-me to stick, I put so much work into making my womb a VIP womb, and what with having a grade 5AA blasto I just can't see why it wouldn't work? I know I did everything possible to make it work and I know it's not my fault (doesn't stop it feeling like it's my fault though). Ho hum, I guess our mini-me was a bit fussy and didn't fancy it? All is not lost, we have mini-mes in the freezer so we can have another go, but for now I'm staying in bed, sleeping when I want to sleep, eating when I feel like eating (but having to force myself as I have no appetite) and just letting the tears flow. The Hubster came home from work yesterday after breaking down himself and after hearing me howl down the phone, it breaks my heart that little bit more when I see my darling Hubster broken - I do love him so and together I know we will be fine, it just doesn't quite feel like that right now. He's gone back to work today which is fine, despite crying already this morning I feel marginally better than yesterday - he needs to go to work, I need to rest. I had the foresight back in November to book a weekend away in Jersey at the beginning of March; we have never needed a break like we need this one - it will help us clear our minds and regroup, right now we're grieving.

I'm signing off for now - it might be a while till I'm back, I don't know - depends how I feel. If you're reading this and we're Facebook friends, please don't post any comments on my wall, please post them here or PM me, and if I don't reply please don't be offended. Despite being quite open with our journey, I'm not that ready to share my grief with the world of Facebook.

Catch ya later x

Wednesday 6 February 2013

The final countdown

Embryo Transfer and the dreaded two week wait

Tuesday was ET day, it was a very exciting day and it pretty much marked a conclusion to our IVF treatment; after waiting for so long and then diving headlong into it, and then feeling rubbish (but very upbeat) throughout, would you think it strange if I told you I found this a little sad? Probably!

We got the call from our embryologist around about 9:30am on Tuesday to tell us we had one über top grade blastocyst for transfer and we have a few for freezing, all good quality blastos but the best with the highest possibility of implanting would be meeting me later. Whoop whoop. Despite having quite a few good quality embryos at the three day stage you always worry that they may not live - it has happened but I was ecstatic to hear that ours were still fighting. I gave verbal consent for them to be frozen - we have some babies in the bank so to speak.

Our appointment was at 2:30pm, you need to have a full bladder for ET as it helps the doctor place the embryo in the right section of the womb (the bladder helps flatten out the womb so when it comes to inserting the catheter into your womb - it practically goes in a straight line). Given the sheer amount of liquid I've been drinking to try and beat the OHSS this wasn't a problem, however - we didn't get seen until 3:30pm - I was full to bursting!!! Like egg collection (EC) day, you need to ensure that you're not wearing any makeup (including nail varnish), perfume - anything smelly and the same goes for your significant other - embryos don't like it so you need to make sure when you are going for EC and ET that you are there as God made you. 

ET doesn't hurt and is much like a smear test as it involves a speculum, unlike having a baseline scan you have an ultrasound - it's via the ultrasound the team can see where to transfer the embryo. There were a legion of people in the room with us: the doctor doing the transfer, two other doctors, a trainee doctor and the embryologist. Initially a lovely, petite Indian lady doctor was supposed to do the ET but when I walked into theatre fully gowned up, I was asked if I minded another doctor doing the ET as he wanted try a new softer catheter (a more senior doctor obviously pulled rank)? I didn't really care who did it, as long as they did it properly and got my mini-me in my womb safely - this doctor seemed like he knew how to do the job! You can't be shy if you're having IVF, your foof is on show for everyone to have a look at. As they were trialling a new catheter we had a mock transfer first, this is fine, do as many practice runs as you like as long as when it comes to the real thing - it's done correctly (I didn't doubt the doctor's competence at any time btw). Yes ladies - you can't be shy about this; imagine you are on a dentist like chair with you legs in stirrups, much like a smear there's a speculum and it's clamped in for a good while, your chair is then winched up and there is a bright yellow shining light beaming at your foof where both male and female doctors will be having a look, all to ensure the safe delivery of your mini-me. This is what ET is like! The bonus of all of this is we not only got to see our mini-me hatching out of it's shell in the petri dish on the big plasma screen just before transfer, but we also saw it being inserted into my womb (not very clearly, but you could see it). This was awesome (and it brings a tear to my eye when I think about it - absolutely amazing).

A day five hatching blastocyst - this is what our mini-me looked like before transfer, ripe for attaching and implanting (fingers crossed).



Kings ACU use the Gardener scale for grading Blastocysts, the stage of development of the blastocyst(s) is graded from 1 - 6, and the outer and inner cell masses are graded from A-C. The inner cell mass forms what will become the baby (this is what you can see hatching out of the picture above), the outer cell mass or trophectoderm will become the placenta. The stage of development and quality of the outer and inner cell masses is scored as per the tables below. I've included this technical shizzle as it can be hard to remember everything as and when you're told it due to adrenalin, and given how you are positioned in theatre.

The Gardener blastocyst grading system assigns three seperate quality scores to each blastocyst embryo:

  1. Blastocyst development stage - expansion and hatching status
  2. Inner cell mass (ICM) score, or quality
  3. Trophectoderm (TE) score, or quality


Expansion
grade
Blastocyst development and stage status
1
Blastocoel cavity less than half the volume of the embryo
2
Blastocoel cavity more than half the volume of the embryo
3
Full blastocyst, cavity completely filling the embryo
4
Expanded blastocyst, cavity larger than the embryo, with thinning of the shell
5
Hatching out of the shell
6
Hatched out of the shell


ICM grade
Inner cell mass quality
A
Many cells, tightly packed
B
Several cells, loosely grouped
C
Very few cells


TE grade
Trophectoderm quality
A
Many cells, forming a cohesive layer
B
Few cells, forming a loose epithelium
C
Very few large cells

What I am really pleased to say is that our mini-me is a grade 5AA - this is the best type of blastocyst that can be transferred, and from what I understand is a bit like gold dust in the murky world of IVF/ICSI. Grade 6 blastos need to hatch in the womb so I was pleased as punch to see that we now have the best possible chance of success, our mini-me was ripe for implantation, fingers and toes crossed.

Test day is Friday 15 February 2013: gulp. 

This is nine long days away. I am so looking forward to that day but it also scares the be-jesus out of me. It's REALLY hard not to dwell and over analyse every twinge (Google at times can be your own worst enemy). Those cramps I can feel, are they implantation cramps or is it my ovaries groaning with the last bit of OHSS or is it the progesterone pessaries? Questions, questions, questions. And it's because of all these questions, lack of activity and waiting that make the two week wait (or the 11 day wait for a five day transfer as in my case) the hardest part of IVF: am I pregnant or not - please somebody tell me!!! BUT one must wait patiently for the outcome of one's endeavours. There's no point in testing too early as you could get a big fat positive (BFP) due to residual HCG being in your system from the trigger shot done 36 hours prior to egg collection. I know of a friend who tested too early and got a BFP, and then ended up getting a big fat negative (BFN) when it came to test day. I can't put myself through that so I shall have to be patient and wait until the morning of 15 February.

I haven't worked out how I will tell people yet, what I do know, if its a BFN I'm not going to want to talk about it and I won't want to have to repeat the news, and I will crumble but for the minute the Hubster and I remain hopeful. Hopeful that our mini-me is bedding down for some VIP womb action and at the moment it feels like that might be happening but only time will tell, as I said - it could be anything. We have done everything humanly possible to make this work and we have a great chance of success but there are no guarantees.

So I'm signing off for now, the next nine days are going to be long but this is where my IVF Belief CD comes into it's own. The third and final message is about deep relaxation and positive visualisation and it really helps me chill and focus all my positive energy to my womb and our mini-me. I'm going to be listening to it lots. Please sprinkle oodles of baby dust our way and pray we get the result we so want.

Catch ya later :) x

Sunday 3 February 2013

Let's twist again

So I've been in pain, real pain. The type of pain that makes all the colour drain from your face and you need to pant through it. The pain was so bad last night that I actually told the Hubster "I need to go to hospital." Queue blood draining from the Hubster's face, scary times - I don't think I'd realised up until that point how stressful all of this has been on my lovely Hubster. The flat may look like an upside down mess but who am I do have a go at him about that when let's face it - all of his energy has been put into making sure that I'm ok?

The day had started out so well as well, we were up at 8:30am getting ready to go to Kings for embryo transfer (ET). We were told to treat Saturday like ET day and if enough of our little mini-mes had made it to day three and were dividing evenly we could go for a day five (blastocyst) transfer. At 9:15am we got the call from the embryologist to say that 3/4 of our embryos were still going strong and were of a very high quality - we could go for Monday transfer - woo hoo! Absolutely buzzing, this is what I'd been praying for - I knew all my PMA was worth it - go, go, go mini-mes - we're willing you on!

This was the best I'd felt in days, I could actually put my new (stretchy) jeans on as the bloat had decreased and I guess the adrenalin rush had something to do with the feel good factor, so the Hubster and I went out for brunch. Whilst at brunch, my consultant called to check on my symptoms (as it was a Saturday I had the doctor call and not a nurse as usual). I told him I was actually up and out for the first time since Wednesday, the bloat had subsided somewhat but I still was nowhere near 100%. He asked about how much I was peeing and he seemed happy with that, but I'm still under close observation as symptoms of OHSS can fluctuate on an hourly basis. The previous day I had a very bad, sharp stabbing pain in the womb/ovary area, it lasted about 10 minutes then went thankfully. Apparently this is my ovary twisting - WTF?!?! Due to over stimulation my ovaries are very large, they sit independently on both sides of the womb. Sudden movement can make them twist - I had no idea about this. They normally twist back by themselves, if the pain stays, it's what's called an emergency and I'm to call the on-call gyno at Kings ASAP and head to A&E if necessary.

OK!!! I felt reassured to know what that pain was and glad my body had sorted it out by itself. Fast forward 12 hours and I look like a ghost, not communicating with the Hubster other than the odd grunt and pointing at whatever I needed - at that point I was demanding a fresh hot water bottle. It took 30 minutes for the pain to go last night and I was scared, really scared (but I didn't let on to the Hubster how scared I was). Having read the OHSS leaflet again that one of the nurses gave me on Wednesday I've now noticed the section on acute abdominal pain it says to call them immediately if I get it. I never really understood what acute pain was until I got OHSS; I've never felt pain like it - EVER, and I pray I don't feel it again.

After brunch we went to the in-laws, it was there my bloating suddenly came back, I had to undo my jeans and I started waddling again - my pee output had suddenly gone down as well so we rushed home (as much as a person in my condition can rush that is), I got back into bed (boooooo), inhaled some water and then I started peeling again - phew. It's now Sunday morning, the bloat is still there (and as big as ever) but my twisted ovary has twisted itself back - thank f**k for that. I have NEVER felt pain like it.

I've had some well meaning friends try to get me to "think myself better" which normally I am an advocate of but this is something totally different to a bug; do they not think that I have already been willing my body to stop doing what it's doing? My friends should know I'm a glass half full kinda girl so thinking my way out of this horrid condition is already on the agenda. If the power of thought alone was enough to stop my follicles from filling up with protein rich liquid, which then seeps out into my abdomen causing the massive bloat, I really would've kicked this OHSS by now but it ain't as simple as that. Telling me to think myself better is a bit like telling a 15 year old girl who has unwittingly found out she's pregnant (and she doesn't want to be), that she can think herself to not be pregnant! That shizzle doesn't happen! This isn't the lurgy, or a tummy bug or a fit of melodramatic depression, its an overreaction to the Gonal F, it is what it is and it will be gone soon enough; the best thing to do is for me to give-in to what's happening, relax, don't stress about it, drink oodles of liquid and rest, rest, rest. 

I know my friends mean well and if you're reading this and you're one of my well meaning friends who gave me the thinking advice please don't get upset with me, I know none of you want me to go through this and that your heart is in the right place. If you know me at all you'll know that I've read masses on this, I understand the condition and how dangerous it can be and I'm doing what the doctors are telling me to do. All my positivity is being channelled towards our mini-mes, willing them to stay strong and to develop into blastocysts. I finally stumbled across a blog that is as honest as my blog on OHSS - have a read - it really made me feel better and it might give you a better understanding of the excruciating pain that no amount of thought is able to combat; it made me realise that I'm not going mad imagining these symptoms - you just need to look at me to see something isn't right!

Bloated Jojo - not looking too happy about the situation (and most certainly not my most attractive photo but I thought I should share the love). This was taken yesterday (Saturday 2 February 2013) - I'm a bit bigger since then - the irony isn't lost on me that I look rather pregnant!




Despite all of this (and it appears that I have had a rather tough IVF experience so far) I am still in very good spirits. I may have had to jump through hoops with the NHS to get my treatment but you know what? I'm glad I had to jump through hoops as IVF is anything but a quick-fix, it's a long hard slog (physically and emotionally). This is expensive, hardcore, invasive treatment - they need to be certain only the right couples get the treatment.

I'm totally in awe of what the doctors do at Kings and I feel nothing but love for them. The NHS, despite its faults is a wonderful thing and I feel so lucky to be where I am, I am blessed to have my mini-mes dividing away in a petri dish in SE5, I'm a very lucky girl - I just need lady luck to be on my side from this day onwards. I just need one of my mini-mes to take up residence with me and we can get on with getting to know each other. It's gonna happen and I know I'll have some babies left over for another time; I can't possibly have endured all of this for it not to work (and I am banishing those seeds of doubt out of my head this very instant!) Knowing I have mini-mes in a petri dish in SE5 makes me very happy and excited. I know the OHSS is likely to get worse and possibly stay with me for weeks to come if I get pregnant but you know what? I don't care, whatever it takes as two want to become three. Tomorrow is blastocyst transfer day - excited doesn't come close :)

Catch ya later :) x

Saturday 2 February 2013

A very good read :)

A proper post is coming soon but I just wanted to share this blog post I've just stumbled across, insightful read and made me laugh - I can relate :)

http://www.mamamia.com.au/parenting/advice-for-those-on-the-ivf-bandwagon/

Friday 1 February 2013

My own harvest festival

Egg collection and after affects round up

Egg collection was on Wednesday 30 January 2013, its now Friday 1 February and I'm spending another day in bed - oh what I'm going through to get a mini-me - but I'd do it all again - in a heartbeat.

So on EC day I was super calm, chilled and if anything not nervous but EXCITED - really excited. This was the day that the Hubster's DNA and my DNA were going to join to make mini-mes - what's not to be excited about?!

I got told off for admitting to taking a sip of water by the embryologist but we were still allowed to go ahead with the procedure. I won't lie to you - it hurt like a MoFo but I was out of it at the same time so I only remember snippets. The Hubster stayed with me throughout, I have vague recollections of him stroking my hair throughout the whole process. I had a heartbeat monitor and not at any point did it increase, it was a nice constant 70bpm, even when I was told to "take a deep breath in" and then I felt a hot, sharp stabbing pain around my womb / ovaries. The hypnotherapy CDs are obviously working - being relaxed and positive is the name of the game so if you are going through IVF yourself, please chill (and if all else fails, listen to The Orb's little fluffy clouds - works every time - you're allowed to take your iPod in with you if need be, if it helps - do it!!!) I know I bled as I felt them clean me up. I don't recall saying this but every time the embryologist said "deep breath in" I said "no pain, no gain." I winced but I wasn't a pansy and I breathed. This was after all one of the most exciting days of my life. What I'm really chuffed that I remembered was seeing MY EGGS on the big fat plasma screen - I am soooooo glad I was with it for that as it was 100% awesome - there were loads of them! Screw the pain - this is so worth it.

Anyhow, in recovery I zonked out and slept on and off for about an hour. I could hear a lady in the neighbouring cubicle crying her eyes out prior to her EC - if my head wasn't as woozy and my legs worked I would've gone in there, given her a big hug and would've tried to change her fear to excitement. I can't see how getting yourself in such a tizz is going to help matters? Anyhow - I hope the sedative helped her chill - it most certainly did me and I felt the after affects of it for the rest of the day.

The long and short of it is: I had far more than 26 follicles by the time the embryologist started having a rummage (my ovaries obviously went into overdrive last weekend), they got 18, yes 18 eggs (woo hoo) and Hubster's swimmers stood up to the test and did us proud. Another embryologist came to see us once I'd come round from the sedative in recovery and told us that at least 9 of my eggs would be fertilised via ICSI and 6 via conventional IVF. As per the most recent swimmer analysis, the Hubster's swimmers were on the cusp of ICSI/IVF so why not treat them like that and do a combo? Brilliant, the staff at King's really are amazing and I am in awe of them. How cool would it be to tell people that you're an embryologist? Far more exciting than saying you work in Marketing - I really wish science had been made a lot more appealing when I was at school as I now find it all fascinating. I'm going to make it my mission to get my mini-me(s) interested in science and with a bit of luck they'll go one to do something as amazing as this.

Anyhow, I digress, do you want to know what the different is between ICSI and IVF? ICSI stands for: Intra-cytoplasmic sperm injection. This involves injecting a single swimmer directly into the egg to fertilise it - so the swimmer is given a helping hand. Here's a picture to show you the science bit - seriously - these guys are amazing for being able to do this:



Conventional IVF stands for in-vitro fertilisation, this literally means fertilisation in a glass - here's another picture for the science bit:



I am very chuffed that we are having both, the staff at Kings are keen to keep the whole process of baby-making as natural as possible so we have been lucky enough to have the best of both worlds. This however is where my frank honesty of how many eggs and swimmers successfully fertilised ends; I want to keep this private and don't really want the amount of embryos we have currently dividing away out there on the internet (you can understand that hey?) What I can tell you is that we have mini-mes growing in a petri dish and the embryologist called saying "I have amazing news" and it was amazing - lockdown was worth it and I am so excited about everything (despite feeling like a big fat pile of steaming poo). We're booked in for embryo transfer (ET) at 10:30am tomorrow morning (Saturday 2 February 2013). This would be a three day transfer, I'm hoping our little mini-mes stay strong and keep dividing evenly so they can get to blastocyst stage and we can have a five day transfer.

Here's a bit more science: check the image below to see how embryos develop. If you look at the very first embryo picture that has just two small circles in it - these circles represent the DNA from the mother and the father - how cool is that?! I figure that our mini-mes are currently at the eight cell stage, awesome, awesome, awesome. With a bit of luck the progesterone pessaries I'm now on will help one of my mini-mes implant in my nice, think womb - a blastocyst implantation is the aim.



Since my EC I have been feeling rough. The bloating I had with the HCG trigger shot has increased, I look about six months pregnant. It seems I have mild OHSS, it's quite uncomfortable and painful, I've felt queasy and have had some terrible trapped wind! Kings are checking up on me daily, I have a jug I need to pee in and I need to drink at least two litres of water / juice / tea  etc a day, and I need to monitor my pee output. If my output declines rapidly I need to get myself to Kings quick sharp, if I start to feel breathless I need to get to A&E. I feel like crap but I'm still über optimistic - it is what it is and it will go soon enough - its just one of those things. I had yesterday off sick and I'm off sick again today - I was supposed to work form home but sitting up at a laptop for long periods of time is very uncomfortable (this post has been written in segments). Kings are calling me daily and they are concerned and keeping a close eye on me but I figure it'll be gone soon enough and I'll have a mini-me inside me :)

So that's it from me today, despite feeling like poo this is quite possibly the most exciting time of my life.

Catch ya later :) x