If I’ve been around your children for any significant portion of time, I assume you’ve heard me singing “I love eggs, from my head down to my legs….” This commercial apparently resonated with me a bit too much because it’s constantly stuck in my head. I thought it was something everyone knew, but I’ve gotten more than my fair share of odd, pointed looks in my direction when singing.
It has now, obviously, taken on a new meaning for me, along with that woman that needs six eggs from Beauty and the Beast, as I pursue this long, strange journey to motherhood. After an eventful weekend and Father’s Day where we got to see both of our fathers, I attempted to have a restful evening of sleep. Fraught with anticipation, that is not an easy task, especially when you can’t eat/drink in order to prepare for anesthesia.
We got there at 7:30 this morning and were quickly transitioned to the intermediary room. This is where I change into a robe and am consulted by the anesthesiologist. It was only the husband of the husband and wife pair this morning. After asking how she was and answering the same questions I do each time, we are left to linger for a bit more. Around 7:50, I am walked into the sterile room after giving Justin a big kiss and a wish of good luck with “delivering his sample.”
The heart monitors, blood pressure cuff, and oxygen mask are placed in their appropriate locations. Though I felt the most nervous I’ve felt thus far for an egg retrieval, my blood pressure was surprisingly normal. My heart rate, per usual, was high, but they’ve become accustomed to my 100+ BPM resting heart rate, so it’s less of a concern at this point. We discussed various things as they inserted the IV and I waited patiently for the show to start. In two shakes of a lamb’s tail, the stage lights were on and the players entered. After other pleasantries and discussing quantity of retrievals (true to form, I was again the last one of this round and the only one for the day), they wrapped me like a burrito, arranged my legs seven feet in the air, and told me they were going to start administering the cocktail. I explained to them that I never remember this part, so I was going to try to remember my last few moments before sleep. I believe that a lot of memory is effort, so this seemed possible. We made a few jokes, then I stated I could feel the medicine working and then…I was out.
As soon as it started, it was over. I was very out of it when waking up this time, which is slightly different than times previous. I was crampy and in a bit more pain, as well. I got my first update which explained my cramping. There were two endometriomas (one of which they thought was a follicle) that were sliced open and drained as much as possible. Without an accompanying update, I was disheartened. I assumed that one of perceived follicles was eliminated and the number would be lower than previously thought.
Suddenly, M popped her head in and said that today was a good day. We did have some hiding and we got NINE eggs. NINE. Two were not at all usable, SIX were mature, and one could possibly still mature. To which I replied a bunch of happy, happy expletives. Still out of it, at this point crying, I couldn’t (and still can’t) believe it. Shortly after, Justin came in and helped me get dressed as we waited for DRW’s official report and discharge instructions. He came in and said: “What a glorious day!” We couldn’t be more in agreement.
We are celebrating this small victory, but have a long way to go. We will get our fertilization report tomorrow of how many eggs fertilized normally. On Thursday, we will get our day 3 report, and on Saturday, our day 5 report of our sweet babies. We are keeping our options open for a fresh transfer and I start meds tonight for it. I still don’t know what we will do. It very much depends on how this week develops and how we feel after continuing to weigh all of our options.
I would appreciate your continued prayers, vibes, thoughts, whatever as we embark on a very important week.
All my love.