Wednesday morning was transfer day. We left Sam with an early morning babysitter when we left the house at 5:00 a.m. to make it to Rochester for our 6:30 a.m. report time.
We went up to the same floor as last Friday. The same pod of rooms. A couple of the same nurses. Our room had only chairs this time, not a bed, and the gown they gave me was easily twice the size of the one I wore on Friday. I couldn't keep the thing up over my shoulders! Thank goodness for the robe, which was more normal-sized, that I kept tied tightly around me.
They took my medical history down (yet again) and gave me a small dose of Valium (which I really didn't want to do, but they assured me it was standard practice, that it would relax me, but more, that it would relax all of the lady parts that they'd be messing with, and if that would help our chances, then Valium it was). Then onto the wheely bed and down to pre-op. I was really glad when I figured out that the Valium wasn't making me all loopy or dizzy or weird. In fact, I'm not entirely sure I felt it much at all. Maybe I was more relaxed in pre-op than I would have been otherwise, but I was so much more excited then nervous about transfer anyway, and Matt was with me.
Dr. Coddington came to let me know they were ready to go! So down the hall the wheeled me, into the same small operating room that I was in for retrieval. Transfer was easy, and there were no surprises. Of all of the ways that different doctors can do different protocols when it comes to medicine, monitoring, triggering, and counseling on how many embryos to transfer....it turns out that there is really only one way to do a transfer. :) It makes sense.
So we got to watch the ultrasound on the screen as they transferred our little guy - it was fun to see the little white spot that IS the embryo (well, the embryo plus some carrier fluid). They didn't say anything to me about what quality blastocyst it was, or whether there were other good ones, or how many. Dr. Coddington made a vague reference to "we're transferring this one today and will probably freeze a couple, but the embryologists will contact you tomorrow to give you the details."
Following the procedure, Dr. Coddington took a lovely bit of time to shake our hands and give hugs and wish us the best, and he seemed so very optimistic! I'm not sure that there would be any actual reason for him to seem particularly hopeful, but he really really seemed excited. So we'll see what happens.
After they got me back upstairs and I changed back into clothes that fit, Matt and I realized that it was only 9:00 a.m. So we walked over to Starbucks for some breakfast, walked around some shops in downtown Rochester, drove out to Kohl's and Target to run errands, and then ate a fancy "transfer day date lunch" at Terza, a delicious Italian restaurant near Mayo. We ate giant chicken meatballs in tomato and garlic cream sauces, and spaghetti carbonara, and spinach pasta with a rich lamb ragu...and then finished it all off with a DEEP FRIED PUMPKIN ROLL. A slice of umpkin cake rolled up with delicious filling, then deep fried, then drenched in caramel sauce and pecans, with ice cream on top. Yum.
I spent a lot of yesterday checking my patient portal over and over again, waiting for the message from the embryologist. Because, as I mentioned to Matt, I am far less worried about this transfer sticking (or not), and am far more worried about having a few more cycles available to us. The odds of this tranfser working are about 50/50. So I'm at peace with the possibility that it might not work. I was NOT at peace with the idea that we might have few or no embryos for the future.
So just imagine the huge smile that erupted on my face when I read that, of the nine that had fertilized, SEVEN of them had made it to blastocyst stage! We transferred one, and they froze SIX! As of day three, only five of them looked promising. But as of days five and six, we have six to freeze. I have no idea how good they are, but they are good enough to keep, which is good enough for me. :)
Now we wait. I'm trying to be a good girl. No caffeine. Trying to minimize stress and maximize rest. Obeying the "no running or other aerobic exercise" rule. The only rule that is near-impossible to follow is the "no lifting anything over 25 pounds" guildenline. Because Sam is 30 pounds. And I have to pick him up to put him in his crib at bedtime, to get him out of the crib in the morning, to put him in the car, to get him out of the car, to put him in his high chair, to get him out of his high chair....so unless I just give up all parenting for the next week and a half, we're just going to have to pretend that 30 isn't really any different than 25.
So. Normal life now for the next week. No more back and forth trips to Rochester multiple times a week. Just my blood draw next Friday to see whether this little guy burrowed in or not. It's funny - for the five other transfers we've done, we ended up with a small list of superstitious things that we did each time: taking a "here we go" picture of ourselves all dressed up in our scrubs; me wearing my lucky socks; Matt wearing my wedding rings on his pinky finger; Matt stashing Lucky the Hedgehog in his pocket. We did NONE of those things this time. So if I were truly the superstitious type, I might be worried right now. But I'm not. I'm not worried at all. I'm pretty peaceful, in fact. If this works, HOORAY! If it doesn't, then we will try again. And if it never happens, then so be it. I love Sam so much - how could I ever feel like he isn't enough? So with as much peace as I can muster, I wait. And I hope. And I pray for patience and sanity for the next seven days...and good outcomes, if it is meant to be!
We went up to the same floor as last Friday. The same pod of rooms. A couple of the same nurses. Our room had only chairs this time, not a bed, and the gown they gave me was easily twice the size of the one I wore on Friday. I couldn't keep the thing up over my shoulders! Thank goodness for the robe, which was more normal-sized, that I kept tied tightly around me.
They took my medical history down (yet again) and gave me a small dose of Valium (which I really didn't want to do, but they assured me it was standard practice, that it would relax me, but more, that it would relax all of the lady parts that they'd be messing with, and if that would help our chances, then Valium it was). Then onto the wheely bed and down to pre-op. I was really glad when I figured out that the Valium wasn't making me all loopy or dizzy or weird. In fact, I'm not entirely sure I felt it much at all. Maybe I was more relaxed in pre-op than I would have been otherwise, but I was so much more excited then nervous about transfer anyway, and Matt was with me.
Dr. Coddington came to let me know they were ready to go! So down the hall the wheeled me, into the same small operating room that I was in for retrieval. Transfer was easy, and there were no surprises. Of all of the ways that different doctors can do different protocols when it comes to medicine, monitoring, triggering, and counseling on how many embryos to transfer....it turns out that there is really only one way to do a transfer. :) It makes sense.
So we got to watch the ultrasound on the screen as they transferred our little guy - it was fun to see the little white spot that IS the embryo (well, the embryo plus some carrier fluid). They didn't say anything to me about what quality blastocyst it was, or whether there were other good ones, or how many. Dr. Coddington made a vague reference to "we're transferring this one today and will probably freeze a couple, but the embryologists will contact you tomorrow to give you the details."
Following the procedure, Dr. Coddington took a lovely bit of time to shake our hands and give hugs and wish us the best, and he seemed so very optimistic! I'm not sure that there would be any actual reason for him to seem particularly hopeful, but he really really seemed excited. So we'll see what happens.
After they got me back upstairs and I changed back into clothes that fit, Matt and I realized that it was only 9:00 a.m. So we walked over to Starbucks for some breakfast, walked around some shops in downtown Rochester, drove out to Kohl's and Target to run errands, and then ate a fancy "transfer day date lunch" at Terza, a delicious Italian restaurant near Mayo. We ate giant chicken meatballs in tomato and garlic cream sauces, and spaghetti carbonara, and spinach pasta with a rich lamb ragu...and then finished it all off with a DEEP FRIED PUMPKIN ROLL. A slice of umpkin cake rolled up with delicious filling, then deep fried, then drenched in caramel sauce and pecans, with ice cream on top. Yum.
I spent a lot of yesterday checking my patient portal over and over again, waiting for the message from the embryologist. Because, as I mentioned to Matt, I am far less worried about this transfer sticking (or not), and am far more worried about having a few more cycles available to us. The odds of this tranfser working are about 50/50. So I'm at peace with the possibility that it might not work. I was NOT at peace with the idea that we might have few or no embryos for the future.
So just imagine the huge smile that erupted on my face when I read that, of the nine that had fertilized, SEVEN of them had made it to blastocyst stage! We transferred one, and they froze SIX! As of day three, only five of them looked promising. But as of days five and six, we have six to freeze. I have no idea how good they are, but they are good enough to keep, which is good enough for me. :)
Now we wait. I'm trying to be a good girl. No caffeine. Trying to minimize stress and maximize rest. Obeying the "no running or other aerobic exercise" rule. The only rule that is near-impossible to follow is the "no lifting anything over 25 pounds" guildenline. Because Sam is 30 pounds. And I have to pick him up to put him in his crib at bedtime, to get him out of the crib in the morning, to put him in the car, to get him out of the car, to put him in his high chair, to get him out of his high chair....so unless I just give up all parenting for the next week and a half, we're just going to have to pretend that 30 isn't really any different than 25.
So. Normal life now for the next week. No more back and forth trips to Rochester multiple times a week. Just my blood draw next Friday to see whether this little guy burrowed in or not. It's funny - for the five other transfers we've done, we ended up with a small list of superstitious things that we did each time: taking a "here we go" picture of ourselves all dressed up in our scrubs; me wearing my lucky socks; Matt wearing my wedding rings on his pinky finger; Matt stashing Lucky the Hedgehog in his pocket. We did NONE of those things this time. So if I were truly the superstitious type, I might be worried right now. But I'm not. I'm not worried at all. I'm pretty peaceful, in fact. If this works, HOORAY! If it doesn't, then we will try again. And if it never happens, then so be it. I love Sam so much - how could I ever feel like he isn't enough? So with as much peace as I can muster, I wait. And I hope. And I pray for patience and sanity for the next seven days...and good outcomes, if it is meant to be!
We're praying for you! Fingers crossed!
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