In December 2011, I had a saline infusion sonohystogram and
a mock transfer. I friend warned me that
it may be uncomfortable, even painful.
It was definitely uncomfortable, but luckily I had no pain. The RE had trouble with the mock transfer and
I had to drink a couple glasses of water.
With a full bladder, he was able to complete the mock transfer. My RE was very optimistic and confident about
the impending January IVF and I was very hopeful and excited about expanding
our family.
I was told I’d be following the antagonist protocol. I began receiving all my IVF meds in the mail
and was surprised by the amount of drugs.
I’m not sure on the exact dates, but I began injections in very early
January – possibly 1/1/12. The first
injection was the hardest. I thought I
was ready. I never really had trouble
receiving shots and wasn’t very worried.
But then again, I was never giving them to myself! The night I did the first injection, I stood
at the kitchen sink for several minutes with the needle aimed at my
abdomen. A stood next to me encouraging
me. I had watched YouTube videos and
thought I was prepared, but suddenly I was terrified. With tears in my eyes, I told A that I didn’t
want to do it. I started to panic. A asked me if I wanted him to give the
injection. Absolutely not. If anyone was going to stab me with a needle,
it was going to be me. After a few
several minutes, I asked A to leave. For
some reason, it was easier to do the injection alone. I finally worked up the courage, gave myself
the injection, and yelled to A, “I did it; I did it!”. There were several more injections over an
approximate 10 day span. There were also
many ultrasounds and blood draws in between.
I believe I was on Menopur, Ganirelex, Follistim, and Lupron at some
point, but I’d have to review the paperwork to be sure (there were so many meds
to keep track of).
Finally the day of retrieval arrived. I was scared out of my mind. I like being in control of situations and was
terrified of being asleep during the procedure.
A was with me as I prepped for surgery (is it technically a
surgery??). The anesthesiologist came
for me. He told me sit a certain way and
I remember staring at him blankly. I was
so scared I couldn’t even comprehend what he was saying. He actually had to take hold of my shoulders
and move me to the correct position. The
procedure was uneventful and 17 eggs were retrieved. I was so relieved when it was over and A
laughed at me as I came out of anesthesia.
We were both happy and hopeful. I
asked the nurse if I could take off the cap because “it wasn’t very
fashionable” and I was very excited about my ginger ale… “my favorite!!”.
A couple days later, I received a call from the clinic and
was told that 11 eggs fertilized and I’d have a 5 day transfer. Great news!
I envisioned having lots of frozen embryos left over in case this
transfer was unsuccessful. I also
assumed the transfer would be relatively easy and told A there was no need for
him to take the day off of work to be with me during transfer. I would go by myself. Looking back, this was a huge mistake.
I went in for transfer nervous, but optimistic. The embryologist came in to discuss the
procedure. She told me that we only had
one embryo reach the blastocyst stage.
Wait, what?!?! I was
shocked. What did they mean only
one? We had started with 11
embryos. How did we only have 1?!?! Everything had been going so well until this
point. The plan was to transfer the 1
blast and 1 morula. They would wait one
more day to see if the other embryos continued to develop and become
blastocysts. If not, we’d have none to
freeze.
Transfer was really difficult. The RE had trouble getting the catheter in
place and had to try several times. It
was extremely uncomfortable. Even more
so with a full bladder. He was
eventually successful. I think a lot of
clinics have you rest after transfer?
Mine did not and I was on my way home soon after the procedure was
complete.
The following night, the embryologist called. We’d been waiting all day for the phone
call. We finally got it at 9 pm and I
knew in my heart that it was bad news. A
answered and received the news. No
embryos to freeze. Not even one. I was devastated. More than devastated, really. Shattered.
Crushed. I cried and cried. It seemed like all those injections, blood
draws, ultrasounds were for nothing. A
complete waste of time and money. Out of
17 eggs and 11 embryos, we had only 1 blastocyst and nothing to freeze. I tried to tell myself we wouldn’t need
frozen embryos if the transfer worked, but I was still upset. I didn’t even make it to the pregnancy test…
my cycle started early. Those who’ve
battled infertility know that BFN stands for big fat negative, but I never even
saw my big fat negative. I had been so
sure this IVF was going to work. So sure
we’d be celebrating a positive pregnancy test and planning for a baby. And now we were back at square one.
For me, there’s nothing worse than building my hopes up and letting
me down. And this was the ultimate disappointment.
