I wish I could say that I was elated right now, but I am not. I wish i could say that I am “PUPO”(Pregnant Until Proven Otherwise”), but I am not even that optimistic. I wish. I wish. I wish I felt better about my chances. I honestly cannot remember the last time I cried this much. I feel like my big balloon of excitement has been just been popped and all that is left is a big ugly deflated piece of rubber on the floor.
We walked into the R.E. Office feeling very positive and excited. I sat there diligently drinking my 3 big glasses of water while DH just sat there smiling. Once we got into the procedure room, things just got overwhelming. I had my husband there next to me, along with a nurse, the ultrasound tech, the doctor and the embryologist who came in and out. The doctor was not my doctor and I couldn’t imagine that his specialty was infertility because he was anything but comforting. The first thing he said was ” I need to talk to you about your embryos.”. Um, yeah asshole, that is why I’m here so spit it out. He tells me that they are growing slowly and that I have 3-4 ( I forgot) at the 4 cell stage. There was a bunch of others but I guess the quality wasnt that great. Seriously, it all happens so fast that I couldn’t absorb everything that they were telling me. There was one 4 cell at grade “A” so they will implant that one. The other 2 or so will continue to grow and they will let me know if they make it to freeze. WHAT?! What happened to my 20 eggs? Where are all of my perfect 7-8 cell embryos I thought we were going to get? I also felt pressured into only transferring in 1. It felt like they didn’t give me a choice since my R.E. suggested transferring only 1 because of my age. The doctor that was there said “Now we don’t want twins…” Umm, would that be the worst thing in the world? What if the other few don’t even make it to freeze and their only chance for survival was in my uterus? What if this was my last chance? WHAT THE FUCK. I can’t believe my embryo, though high quality supposedly–is not at the optimal size. I cannot believe that I may indeed have to go through this process again, if not for my first baby but for my second. I really thought that I was done. After hearing that I had 20 eggs I thought they would end up being my kids. No more hormone injections and egg retrievals. No more of THIS.
During the transfer, we watched on the screen as the little embie went into the uterus. The nurse had to give me tissues because I had tears streaming down my face. My poor husband–so enamored with this embryo and optimistic for this cycle–felt heartbroken for me. I thought I was going to cry from happiness during the procedure but instead I cried from my sucky, disappointing results.
Another emotional factor was that they told me to come in for the pg test on Jan 26th–which is the day before my brother’s birthday who past away when I was 16. I always felt like his spirit would live on in my son one day. The timing of this just makes it more meaningful and of course more emotional no matter what the outcome is.
Well, here I am on the 2ww. We have a picture of our little embie which my husband loves. I would post it here but unfortunately I’m just not feeling that celebratory right now. Maybe I just need to give it time. I want to feel better but I cant help but feeling like my whole world is crashing down on me. My eggs must suck. My one dream in life of being a mom continues to elude me. I don’t even want to talk to anyone right now. I am at a loss.