It all started with the severe pain I felt from the doctor playing with my ovary the day before. Having depleted most of my sick days, I had to go to work the day after my retrieval in which 27 follicles were aspirated. And, since I work with kids, it is not possible to just sit at your desk. OUCH.
The day went further downhill when I called for my fertilization results from Wednesday's retrieval, expecting good news. For my first IVF, retrieval garnered 18 eggs, 15 fertilized, and 9 were transferred in three separate attempts: 2 fresh, 3 frozen, and 4 frozen, respectfully. That was a pretty good harvest, and my doctor tweaked some things this time so that I would have even better results.
Wrong.
When I called, the lab tech told me only 12 were mature, and only 5 fertilized. WITH ICSI.
Whaaaaaa????
She kept saying that the lab was very disappointed with these results and she doesn't know why it happened this way. Then, she tried to console me by saying, "Well, remember you only need one."
Seriously??? That set me off. "Apparently, I don't need just one," I said to her, "because they put in 9 last IVF and none of them took, so this is no consolation to me."
She said, "Oh. I'm sorry."
Thank God my free period is at the end of the day. I had to leave.
On the way home, I stopped to get ground beef and bread and my bill was $6.66. No shit. Hello, beelzebub. I was sure you had a hand in things. Did you have to rub it in? I also needed to stop and pick up my FIL's birthday cake, and nearly shot daggers out of my eyes at the poor old woman baker who informed me they only take cash. So, after running to the cash machine and finally picking up the cake, I was able to go home and freak out.
Sobbing uncontrollably, spit running out of my mouth onto the floor, I stuffed half a loaf of bread into my mouth, ate two large cookies, and began to create my favorite meal: spaghetti and meatballs (I had been dieting, so this all was a big deal to me.)
The turmoil continued with the irrational fear: I just KNOW this cycle is going to be a bust. So much so that I was considering canceling my transfer on Friday.
Then, my husband came home and I sobbed again. He held me while I stirred the marinara, and I began to feel some peace.
Why do I have to go through this shit? I just want to punch a wall. This is sooooo not fair.
I cannot believe you went to work after your egg retrieval! You are one tough cookie! Especially since it's not an office job. FWIW, I think you will make a fabulous mother. Someone who would stop by a bakery to pick up a cake for her FIL on the day of ER, wins the daughter-in-law of the year award in my book. I'm so sorry about how everything is going. You definitely have every right to a meltdown... and a carb-fest.
ReplyDeleteActually, it was the day after retrieval. I am not that tough. LOL! Sorry I wrote that wrong. Brain fart.
ReplyDelete