little stars

Please little stars, hang tight...

transfer

The embryologist phoned to tell us our four have become two. One was an immature egg, one didn't play nicely with Significant Other's swimmers and so we have two to work with.

Because of the low numbers, to give us the best chance, they have done something called "assisted hatching" - I don't understand fully the technicalities of it but it's something to do with a laser, the zona pellucida and a risk of a multiple pregnancy (ha!)

Anyway, so far I am going in tomorrow morning for transfer. Apparently both embryos (embryos? fertilized eggs? our children?) have a 95% chance of making it through tonight and, if they do, they will be placed safely inside me on what would have been Starchild's first birthday.

and the number is...

....drumroll please...


4.

Four. Okay, I know, that is 4 times better than nothing, which is what I thought would happen but still - when the clinic's average is 10 per patient, 4 is a little disheartening.

Still, until the embryologist calls later today and tells us otherwise (you see that Eyeore mode has been engaged!), we have 4 little tiny pieces of us somewhere in a petri dish in central London.

update

But first a big thank you to everyone who left such supportive comments on my last post. While this journey is so hard and we wouldn't wish it on anyone, it's so comforting to know that we're not alone, that there is this whole community out there knowing what we're individually going through, and being so supportive.

So I was scanned again on Tuesday and there was another decent-sized follicle (on my "lazy" right ovary) and a couple more on the left which the doctor thought may show potential. So, we are on for retrieval tomorrow. I can't believe that we have actually made it this far! It seemed so hopeless just a day ago. Digits crossed for a good haul!

hope

Another IF and loss irony - hope.

Because if this whole process isn't the epitome of hoping, I'm not sure what is.

We all go through this with the hope that the drugs will work, that they will make our ovaries produce follicles to produce eggs or that the drugs will help our DHs' swimmers go forth and multiply or that they will synch our cycles with our donor's cycle.

We hope that we have enough eggs, enough fertilize, make it to blastocysts, have some for frosties, transfer well.

We hope that our precious embryos settle in and hang on, hang in, hang tight.

We hope for that elusive, that longed-for, that wanted-so-much second line.

We hope to see a heartbeat, and that we will see it over and over again for 9 months until we have that living, breathing, beautiful, so so SO loved already bundle of hope cradled in our arms.

We hope never, ever, ever to go through what we have all gone through, what we are still going through again.

The whole journey / quest / trek / battle is from the very beginning wrapped up in hope.

So how come it's the first casualty? How does it drain away so quickly and yet be the one thing that carries us on to the next scan or the next blood test or the next injection?

Here I am, with 2 decent follicles after 10 days of stims, now on 2 injections of Cetr0tide a day instead of 1 in the hope of producing something to work with. Another scan and more bloods tomorrow as Dr Kind Eyes today said he "hopes this will stimulate better".

Me? I'm doing as I'm told but I've run out of hope.

still undecided

A scan at the rudely early time of 9.00 on a Sunday morning showed 5 average to a bit better than average follicles on the left and 3 teeny, tiny follicles on the right.
"Your right side is very lazy, Illanare," Hawkeye scolded as he waved the wand. I felt fleetingly responsible for my right ovary's sloth, which I told myself was stupid. But then I felt proud of left ovary's achievements which, funnily enough, I didn't take myself to task for...

Anyway, blood results from yesterday showed an E2 level in the four thousands (I think, Hawkeye mumbles on the phone rather) and I am going in for another scan in an hour. I've been promised a decision today, so fingers and toes are still being kept crossed...

jury still out

Friday's scan showed a microscopic follicle on the right, and five less-than-ideal on the left. So another scan tomorrow for a final decision whether to go for IVF or a slightly less satisfactory IUI. I know that IUI is better than nothing but still - hoping, hoping, hoping...

And I have a cold. I hate having colds - I very rarely get them and they make me disproportionatly fractious. Which is probably why I'm a bit miffed that Significant Other is out this evening at a dinner party hosted by his ex girlfriend. Still, I have a fluffy blanket, low-impact Saturday night TV and a purring cat to keep me company so it's really not all that bad :-)