FET Update #2 – - - PUPO!

The day has arrived! Transfer day. From the egg retrieval to now feels as if a decade has passed. All Monday my stomach and nerves would not settle down. I felt excited. I felt nervous. There’s a giddiness that comes with the knowledge that the following day you will technically be pregnant.

Tuesday morning, J² woke me up and tried to focus on getting dressed and not freaking out. The magnitude of what was going to happen fired every nerve I have. Now, some may be worried about the procedure itself, but this weighed little on my mind. All my understanding is it’s similar to an IUI so I knew at most for me there would be mild discomfort. No, all the anxiety came from the fact I was about to have one of my embabies put back in and the hopefulness of wanting her to stick.

So I chose a simple black dress, my new leggings, and, of course, my lucky socks.

Stylin'

Nice combination, right? A quick aside: can I tell you about those leggings? They are from a brand called LuluRoe. I had heard the name pop up now and again, but didn’t pay too much attention. Leggings have never really been my friend. For some reason companies don’t like to make leggings in a petite size. So whenever I would buy a pair they always go passed my feet. It’s ridiculous. Well, a couple of weeks ago J² and I attended a fundraiser event and a couple of ladies were selling this LuluRoe stuff. So I caved and bought a pair. Surprisingly, the leggings actually fit. They are very soft and have a wide waist band. Which is a plus in my book. So these leggings made a good choose to wear for transfer day. We’ll see how well they hold up. Now back to transfer day. . . . .

I was told by the nurse to drink water on the way down so my bladder would be filling up by the time I arrived. The main clinic with the OR is about 45-60 minutes away. Your bladder needs to be full (not bursting) so the doctor can see the uterus and where to implant the embryo. Off we went; with a minor detour because of a freeway accident that had the road completely halted.

After checking in, we were taken to a consultation room to go over the finer details. The nurse had us sign a consent form and discussed the post-transfer instructions. This includes upping my Progesterone to twice a day and continuing my other medication (i.e. Metformin, prenatals, and blood thinner). My clinic recommends resting the remainder of the day and abstaining from activities that will make the uterus contract for a few days.

Next, the doctor came in to explain the procedure. He wasn’t our regular doctor, but that happens if you fall out of your doctor’s batch. He offered Valium, but said it didn’t look like I needed it. And I didn’t. He realistically gave us a 40% chance of this succeeding. I’m not sure if he is low-balling it or it’s just the sobering fact how hard this is. I am 36 so I get the distinction of being of advance maternal age. Evidently, my uterus needs a walker.

We are then taken to the pre-op area and I change into one of those stylish gown. J² gets to don a paper gown and mask. He looks good.

As we were waiting, I looked at the clock and mentioned how the digital face didn’t match the analog. The analog was reading 11:13 and the digital was at 11:14. Yeah. So it took after the clock turned 11:14 to realize the digital wasn’t the time - - it was the date. Duh. I blame my nerves and not me being an airhead. Ha ha!

The nurse came and escorted us into the OR. I got up onto the table and the nurse helped put my legs in stirrups. She did an abdominal ultrasound to check my bladder. Nice and full and I’m starting to feel it. At this time, the embryologist comes in and takes us through her part. She gives a picture our possible future daughter. She tells us they thawed the best looking one. Finally, the doctor comes in and we’re ready to go.

First, the doctor inserts the speculum (awkward and uncomfortable as usual) and cleans the vaginal area. The progesterone gel and mucus need to be flushed. Sorry, TMI. Secondly, a catheter is threaded through the cervix and positioned where the embryo will be placed. On a T.V. to our left we could see the petri dish with our embryo. At this point the embryologist confirms the name on said dish and then uses a needle to pick it up. The fourth step involves the embryologist bringing the needle containing the embryo into the OR and inserting it into the catheter that the doctor is holding in place. And lastly, the embryologist checks the catheter to much sure the embryo passed through. After the all clear is given, the speculum is removed. And that’s it. I’m officially PUPO. Pregnant Until Proven Otherwise.

Baby's first picture

In the red circle is the baby. The rest is the placenta.

I got dressed and we left. I mentioned to J² that I feel like I should feel different when leaving than when we first came in. Maybe a big flashing sign above my head that says, “baby on board.” I literally have a growing embryo inside of me. And, yet, it seems so surreal. I’m pregnant, but maybe not. I have no control of the outcome, but I’m worry that any sneeze, or cough, or even sleeping wrong will make the embryo fall out. The two week wait begins. Then I go in for blood work.

I’m trying to be positive, but also pragmatic. Be hopeful (yuck), but not get carried away.  

FET Update #1

How about an update? Currently in the midst of my first FET. What is a FET? It stands for frozen embryo transfer. As opposed to a fresh embryo transfer which occurs days after an IVF retreival. I must say this feels like a breeze compared to the retrieval process. After my cycle started, I went in for a baseline ultrasound and blood work. Raise your hand if you’re shocked by that. Standard modus operandi for a fertility clinic. Everything looked good. Now I’m taking Estradiol, orally, to help thicken my uterine lining. Aren’t you glad you now know that about me? Because you do. I’m also on Lovenox. Again. My stomach looks a little like those athletes who use that cupping method. Except my bruises are more gnarled.

On Wednesday, I have my next appointment. You’ll never guess what they are going to do. Ha ha ha! Did you say blood work and ultrasound? Well, you would be correct.

As of right now, my transfer date is November 14^th. That can easily change though. I’ll know more on Wednesday.

A laughable moment happened. I ordered Progesterone from a compounding pharmacy. It’s a suppository that comes in gel form. Many women either choose or have to do the shot form. I opted for the gel because I figured I’m going to be doing enough shots throughout this process. I received the medication; it comes in a tube. The instructions say to measure 1 gram. I’m looking at this tube and thinking, “how in the hell am I going to measure and use it?” Nothing else came with the medication. Sooooo……

Nope. A part of this equation is missing. The next time I saw the nurses I asked. Apparently, applicators should have been shipped with the Progesterone. I contacted the pharmacy and they sent those to me. Got to laugh where you can.

The First

Because I digressed a bit in the last post, I’ll continue my story here.

After consulting with our fertility doctor, we decided to try an IUI. IUI stands for intrauterine insemination. A nice fancy term for artificial insemination. After receiving the sperm sample, the clinic washes it to help eliminate the poor swimmers and produce a good concentrated sample. It is then injected into the uterus. Like putting Micheal Phelps into a kiddie pool. We want the fastest going the shortest distance. It’s a decent option for women with PCOS and no male factor infertility (MFI). Less evasive, less expensive.

We did our first one in July 2014. It failed. I took this failure the hardest. Perhaps, I was more hopefully than I acknowledged. Perhaps, it was waiting 11 years for good news. I recall getting the negative pregnancy test that morning and felt like I was punched in the gut. The melancholy hovered about me the whole day.

August 2014. Second IUI. Negative.

October 11, 2014. Third IUI. Two week wait. I refuse to test until I’m a least a week late. So a that two weeks became more like three and a half weeks. November 5^th: I think I’ve given it enough time. My cycle hadn’t started. My boobs were aching. So, I tested. And there it was in digital form –-- “Pregnant.” Without the ‘not.” It was positive!!!!!!!! BFP! My first one ever. Little butterflies hatched in my stomach. My mind commenced spinning. Blood test confirmed it. I was pregnant. J² and I were finally going to be parents.

Two days later, I had an ultrasound. The baby was where it should be. We could see the gestational sac and yolk sac. Ten days after that we saw the tiniest heartbeat ever. I was amazed. The flicker of a heart in a white blob on the screen. I loved that blob. At this point we “graduated” to my regular OB. I must say that it’s somewhat humorous when I went in to schedule an appointment and they had to do a pregnancy test. Then the nurse comes into the room and say you’re pregnant. Yeah, all those records that were transfer to your office should have told you. Perhaps, OB offices need a protocol for when fertility patients are transferred. Anyway, I had my first follow-up with my doctor’s nurse practitioner. Everything is progressing nicely. Scheduled out the rest of my appointments for the whole pregnancy.

Tired and nauseous, I managed to make a couple pies for Thanksgiving that year. Did I mention I was tired? My brain was becoming numb. And I ruined the pumpkin pie. I forgot the sugar. Who needs that in a pie? J² said he liked it. But that’s because he’s not much of a sweets person. So don’t trust his word on that. The lemon pie was alright.

Over a week later, on a Sunday night, I started bleeding lightly. I spotted in the first few weeks, but it a stopped. I was trying not to panic. The next morning, I was still bleeding. It hadn’t increased in flow that I noticed. I called the my doctor’s office and they had me come in. We ended up sitting in the exam room for over an hour because the doctor had to deliver a baby. So we sat anxiously.

Finally, the doctor returned and I had a rock dropped on my chest. I was supposed to be eight weeks along. The ultrasound showed no heartbeat. After such a long time……..

She gave us the usual spiel that it wasn’t my fault. Most likely a chromosome issue. We are handed some papers that explain all about early pregnancy loss. The doctor went over our options if I don’t miscarry naturally. She mentions it can take up to a week or so. We set up to go back the following week. And we left. . . defeated.

During this time, I kept telling my work I was coming in, so as we left the hospital I told J² to take me there. He suggested we just go home, but I was adamant that I go to work. Then I would take the time off I needed to get through this. I think part of my brain didn’t want to handle what was happening. I had broad expectations of what was to come, but not any true understanding. I went to work, while J² played racquetball waiting for me. My job is at a recreation center. Midway through my main task I started cramping. At first, I could ignore it. Then quickly, the cramping intensifies to the point where I’m almost in tears. I tell my manager that I have to leave. I make it as far as the nearest restroom. It is there, at work, that I fully miscarry my first baby. I managed to keep myself together in order to get J² and go home.

I showered, curled up on the couch, and slept. And I just laid there. I struggled through a phone call with my mom. In between making sure I was okay, J² painted the utility room. Focusing on a project helps him deal with his emotions. He already feels helpless enough because he can’t make me better.

As much I mourned my loss, I also began to focus on moving forward. I had to. The biggest question was could I get pregnant again. I couldn’t give up, yet.