Not for the faint of heart

Wow, what a rollercoaster the past few days have been.  We woke up Wednesday morning excited for what laid before us.  The egg retrieval was an easy process.  I had no problems with the anesthesia, it wore off very quickly once they woke me up, and I felt completely fine all day Wednesday, although I did take advantage of laying around and taking a nap or two (and watching Game of Thrones in bed with my love).  We got 14 eggs, which is a pretty good number.  I was hoping for more initially, since my AMH (measures egg supply) is so high, but 14 is good.

I woke up yesterday and felt pretty good albeit tired (still not sleeping well).  My ovaries are a bit sore (and I'm constipated... maybe TMI but something has got my system jacked up and swollen ovaries + a stopped up system = a not happy abdomen).  Then, as I was on my way to work, the number for the fertility doctor came up on my phone, so I knew it was probably the embryologist and I was excited to hear how our embryos were doing.  BAM!  They were able to perform ICSI on 13 of the 14 (I actually have no idea what happened to the 14th... maybe it was the runt of the litter), and only 3... THREE!!!!... fertilized.  Huh?  Come again.  I was not expecting that, and it definitely threw me for a loop.  They have no idea why; it could be that my eggs did not activate once the sperm were in there or that the sperm were somehow deficient.  There's really no way of telling.

I was in a funk most of the day.  I e-mailed our support group and prayer warriors when I was probably at my worst, and I know their prayers sustained me and they stood strong for me and held onto hope when I felt like mine had been ripped away and then someone sucker punched me in the gut.  I mean, we still have three embryos.  And, all we need is one to make a baby.  But, that's just not how things are supposed to happen, so it was just shocking and not welcome news.

Once I got home, Matt and I were able to hug, talk about it, shed a few tears, share our concerns, and get over it and focus on the three potential babies we have still growing.  No news is good news today, and I haven't heard from the embryologist and pray that I do not.  We are tentatively scheduled for a 10:30 am transfer tomorrow, but the embryologist will call by 8:20 if we are good to go for a Monday blastocyst transfer, as planned.  I have no idea how our embryos are graded, if they look healthy, etc. but I am surprisingly at peace about it.  Matt shared his worries last night that we would end up with none, and not to say that the thought hasn't crept into my head, but I'm just not worrying about it.  My God can do immeasurably more than I can hope or imagine, and He is in control of this.  Maybe the other ten embryos would have had chromosomal issues or something... who knows?  It's not the first time my faith and hope have been put to the test, but I'm still hanging on and I refuse to give those up.

And, because I have absolutely no shame anymore (I never had much to begin with... just ask anyone who attended or saw me at my bachelorette party... let's just say it involved a Burger King like cardboard crown, only it wasn't a crown), I have to show you the super sexy side of infertility. I mean, I just shared with the entire interwebs that I am constipated, so whatever.

I'm sexy and I know it.

In recovery.

Heat in the front, ice in the back.

I started the progesterone shots yesterday, and while I am going to try to do some shots myself, I felt like I needed to know what was coming before I attempted to stab myself at a somewhat awkward angle with a one and a half inch 22-guage needle.  So, Matt reluctantly kindly volunteered.  It only took him almost passing out when I flashed the needle in front of him, having to sit on a chair, and count to three at least three times before he finally got the guts to proceed.  I am happy to report that it truly didn't hurt at all.  Until today.  Yikes!  I am going to have one soar rear end, hopefully for the next 4-8 weeks.  It will be more than worth it for a healthy baby in 38 weeks.