Tuesday, July 20, 2004

Retrieval!

First and foremost, here's the numbers.  21 eggs were retrieved, 17 were mature, 12 fertilized.  Considering that I was told I had 10 follicles and a few immature ones, this news was a huge surprise.  I'm giddy over the 12.  I just can't believe it.
 
Second, let me tell you my long and drawn out retrieval story, especially for those who haven't been through it before.  For the first time, I went into the room to help Matt with his donation.  It was strange to go into this room together at the clinic for the sole purpose of getting it on, kind of like being teenagers and hiding in his parents' bathroom, but it worked.  Of course I was left lacking, but then that's not the point.
 
I was to be there at 9:30.  We dropped off the sample at 9:10.  I was told that they would call me back any minute.  At 9:30, I checked again and was told that I was next.  One by one all four other women in the waiting area were called back, probably for ultrasounds.  There were no more medical files standing up in the queue, so at 9:40 I checked in again.  This time she went back and checked and told me that the woman with the appointment before mine was late, so they would be late getting to me.  For some reason, although I had been happy and excited all morning, that news sent me swirling towards the drain.  I got weepy and emotional.  It really upset me that they would give the earlier appointment to someone who didn't even care enough to make it there on time.  (Probably not the reason she was late, but at the time it was my main thought.)  Of course this is irrational, I know that now and I knew that then too.  I can't explain how it was this one little thing that threw me off, but it did.
 
Then they called me back.  The perky young nurse asked what was the matter and I tried to explain but it came out jumbled between the tears.  She told me that she remembered I was emotional at my hysteroscopy too. (Not True! I was fine before and crying afterwards because it hurt like hell.)  Dr. Chickie came in and told me not to believe the women at the desk, because they tell everyone that they're next or will be called back any minute.  I hope they pay them well for that level of service.
 
In reality, it was just the stress of the day finally manifesting itself and not the tardiness of the schedule.  It was only 30 minutes late, not that big of a deal, but it seemed so upsetting at the time.
 
I laid in the pre-op/recovery room after getting my IV, waiting for the room to be ready.  I was reading O magazine, but I couldn't concentrate.  Soon enough I was in the OR, getting situated on the table with my knees in the stirrups.  The first drug, fentanyl (like morphine) really relaxed me.  I was relaxing all my muscles and thinking of plump little babies.  I was nearly swept away by the calmness until my nose started itching.  It got worse and worse until I had to scratch it.  To do so I had to unbundle my arm and reach under the air mask, but it did feel better.  The anesthesiologist told me it was a side effect of the drug.  Then they gave me the other drug which knocked me out immediately.
 
I woke up when they were moving me from the OR bed to the gurney.  I asked if anything was wrong because I imagined that they looked at my follicles and they must have ovulated already.  No, the procedure was over and everything was fine.  I told them that I had a dream about work, which I really hate because I feel like I should get paid for it.  Anesthesia makes you say the strangest things.
 
In other surgeries I've had (gallbladder & lumpectomy), I've woken up from the surgery crying.  This time I didn't.  I assume it's because the premise for the whole thing is different.  This is something that I wanted.  Not IVF particularly, but trying to get pregnant.  I see this leading somewhere pleasant.  So the wake up reaction is something mental or emotional.  Or, this doc used better drugs.
 
Because of the number of eggs and PCOS, I have a higher chance of getting OHSS (ovarian hyperstimulation syndrome) so I'm trying to follow the list of things to do and not do.  I slept most of yesterday.  Today I'm sore, but trying to work.  My biggest problem is that the thoughts of this are consuming me.  I can't fit work in anywhere.  It just doesn't seem that important.
 
Thursday we will decide based on quantity and quality whether to transfer possibly 3 then, or to hopefully wait until Saturday and transfer only 2.  I'm so excited by having 12 fertilized because I feel that my odds are good at getting some to transfer and some to freeze just in case.  I can't imagine going through this all again, and don't know if I can.  But, I know that if it doesn't work, that in a few months I would feel differently and would be wanting another try.
 
12 fertilized.  A dozen.  May they divide and prosper.

10 Comments:

Blogger Barren Mare said...

12 seems a great number. Well done on getting through this part. I don't blame you for being a little fragile and upset about waiting- you'd think they would have a little more sensitivity. Me, I would be have been having a meltdown!

11:56 AM  
Blogger amanda said...

Congratulations on the 12! That's wonderful news.

12:29 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Congratulations! Isn't it nice to get good news every once in a while!

patricia
http://laf.typepad.com

1:11 PM  
Blogger TK said...

wow-12 fertilized! that is excellent.
so Dr Chickie was wrong earlier, hmm.
waiting for transfer was hard for me, I tried to keep busy but everything else just seemed so mundane when my 'babies' were just waiting for me across town!

5:30 PM  
Blogger Jen P said...

delurking to congrat you on a perfect dozen! Whee!

As for the OHSS, watch out for any sudden chest pain. Even like heartburn. I spent a whole day and a half hooked up to monitors and vines or tubes last year after a rather awful bout.

So it scares me to hear other women in the 'ohss risk' category.

Wishing you lots of luck! Divide! Divide! Divide!!

12:03 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Twelve is great! Grow embies grow!

TigerJen

7:25 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

May they divide and prosper indeed. Thinking of you.

--Brooklyn Girl

7:31 AM  
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