Ok, first I want to bitch, but then I’m going to get over it, so bare with me.
Dr. Sunshine had been making a big deal over my 30 developing follicles. She was talking about how they’d probably get this great number of eggs, not 30, but a good number out of me. Then many of them would turn into wonderful embryos, so many that we’d probably end up doing a day 5 blastocyst transfer. So, stupid me, I totally buy into this. I should know better than to get my hopes up, to expect something great to happen. Isn’t it better to hide away in the black pit of despair and suddenly be surprised by something wonderful… whenever something wonderful finally happens? Anyway, I fell a bit short of her expectations. Maybe what I got isn’t all that bad, I really don’t know. This is my first IVF cycle and it seems that I was overly optimistic. Now I’m let down.
Wednesday was retrieval day. They took out 13 eggs, 11 of which were mature enough to be fertilized. On Thursday morning there were 6 embryos. Today we still have 6 dividing embryos, and our transfer will be tomorrow, a day 3 transfer. I probably read too much about how wonderful blastocysts are because they can be more sure about the viability of a blastocyst vs. an embryo. Now I’m concerned that this isn’t going to work out because we failed to make it to day 5.
Ok, enough of that. Yes, it’s comfortable and safe in the black pit of despair, it’s the best place to vacation during fertility treatments. However, my husband is begging me to come out of there and be happy about our 6 embryos. I’ve taken all his joy away. So, I’m going to cheer up. There are 6 little Amy-Howie embryos, and I love them all. They’re little living pieces of us, so how can that be disappointing? I fell in love with the baby I lost in December and I didn’t stop loving it because it didn’t make it past 6 weeks. So how can I not love my 6 little petri dish babies? I need to get up in the morning and go in for my transfer, I need to have faith in my little embryos. Then we’ll all go home and take a nap on the couch together. Maybe they’ll cuddle up inside of me and think about sticking around for the next 9 months. Wish us luck!