Meet the Embryos

1st IVF continued

On day three we headed for the RE. We were very excited. Was this the beginning of a new beginning? I couldn't help think what I always thought. If I could just get the right stuff in the right place I knew beyond all doubt that I could grow a baby. If I didn't think...no know...that, why would I have spent a ridiculous amount of money, time, energy, emotions, everything we do and don't have on this outrageous idea? Right?

The transfer agenda:

Meet with the RE who would be doing the transfer.
Discuss how many embryos were going in.
Valium and undress.
The nurse goes over the pre and post transfer instructions.
Relax (right) and wait.
Get the embryologists final report.
On table, legs up, catheter in, and hope for the tell-tale flash of static on the US monitor.
Relax, go home, and start pleading with the universe for a BFP...do that for 3 days of "couch rest".

They should have started with the Valium.

When we met with the RE she showed us a picture of 3...what looked like embryos. They were severely fragmented, the cell bodies were unevenly sized, some were just at 4 cells and some at 6. She went over the grading. All were in the average or below. But she went on to say that she would give them a minus next to each number for overall quality (and by the look of the picture, I thought she was being generous). I hardly heard a word she said, I couldn't hear her voice over the sound of my own heart breaking. These sad tiny embryos were what I made and I knew beyond any doubt that none of them would be able to hang in there. I was shocked and broken. I kept trying to tell myself to be positive but I couldn't. You see as a soldier in the infertility war I had seen dozens of embryo mugshots. From the very beautiful to the somewhat rangy. But I had never seen embryos that looked this way. So fragile, so broken. It would be the first and last time I ever got a glimpse of what my own biological children would be.

Before we were through we were told that one of the 6 celled embryos had moved on to a 7 cell which meant it had some energy at least...a fighter...just like me. The transfer itself was very painful, unusually so. I have no idea why. I am veteran of the catheter and it never hurts. I know the RE was trying to position it, but I was in pain physically and emotionally. It was all I could do to stop myself from crying in anguish. I didn't really participate emotionally in the transfer, I was too sad.

After they left us in the darkened room with our own CD playing in the background, I told Wonderwoman how I felt. What could she do? She held me. She said, "Let's just see what happens". A woman of few words but also a practical person, there was not much to say. Thank God she is so much stronger than me.

At home my parents were there to help settle me in for the next three days...and to celebrate Christmas with us.