The reality of IVF

That reality is that the positive results are the minority, and this cycle we have fallen into the majority.

It's excellent medicine having a manic little ginger screaming around the house - it doesn't leave much space for thinking about anything other than the positive outcome of our journey prior to now and that we've already got what a ridiculously high percentage of couples who seek fertility treatment will never get.

And cue cycle two.

There's a good chance (50/50) that this one'll be Rupert.

And, done.

More or less anyway.

The frozen embryo replacement cycle has been quite the doddle, all in all. I started blood testing on day 10 which showed no real ovulation-type action, so I had a couple of days off and had bloods taken again on day 13. Day 13 blood work showed a surge in hormone levels, so I repeated the blood test on day 14 and had a scan which confirmed a follicle was ready to pop, then hey ho, the embryo was thawed on Wednesday and replaced on Thursday, day 19 I think it was (it was a 5 day blastocyst, and so it was replaced 5 days after ovulation, to mimic the normal way of things). Just like that. Nothing much to it. Far too simple really. It's such a huge, uncertain thing, that leaves you feeling a bit 'what next?' like, because it's just done, and there are no bruises to heal, no pain to nurse, no drugs to take, just all done, off home to wait. Wait as though you are pregnant, but ... well.

I had a blood test yesterday, to check hormone levels were such that a pregnancy could be supported if one was underway and as the clinic was only going to ring if there was anything wrong and I didn't hear from them, one assumes at this point that the environment is good and it's all down to the embryo and whether it's strong enough. I can't even tell you what number we're rooting for - 3 or 4 is as much as the lab was able to tell me. Actually, they said it's 3, 4 or 9, but since 9 was busy trying to make a break out of the nurse's room at the time, that narrowed it down to 3 or 4. At least it's not both. Or better not be anyway. 3 seems to have good juju - a factor of 9, a third less ... personality, perhaps? than Cuinn. Perhaps. Or, as a friend (cheers Lynn), cheerfully suggested, three times the life. Ye gads. Four is also good of course - an even number to Cuinn's odd. Even number = even temper? Maybe? Pretty please?

What was uber awesome was that our obstetrician Paul, who cared for and delivered Cuinn, works 2 days alternate weeks at Fertility Plus and it all just kind of worked out that he was at the clinic on Thursday. I don't know if he was always going to do the transfer (there were other specialists in the clinic that day), or if he did it because we asked him if he could when we saw him there (we have Cuinn to thank for the seeing bit actually - having exhausted all the entertainment the water cooler/reception desk/selected rubbish bins/other people waiting in the waiting room could provide, he opted for streaking down the hall on his way to whereever he could make it before he was caught and shot past the office that Paul was in,giggling his head off with Al in pursuit, which caught Paul's attention, thereby bringing his presence in the clinic to ours) but either way, we couldn't have asked for more that someone who has been so involved and close to us with our journey was able to make the transfer. Full credit to his reflexes, he also managed to get a photo of the embryo (well, the fluid that the embryo was in - you can't actually see the embryo) in the split second between it shooting out of the catheter and embedding in my uterus.

So now, we're waiting. There's a pregnancy test within the next couple of weeks, but we're keeping the date under our hats. Just one of those things. We'll let you know though. Of course.

In which the kid gets spoiled. Again. Still.

I started blood tests today (day 10), which were in theory to be daily up until ovulation but the results have showed that my body is disinclined to rush, so we're taking a couple of days off and they'll have another look on Friday. We're not particularly phased - it'll happen the way it happens. At this stage it's probably a week away from embryo replacement. Possibly a bit longer. Will keep you posted.

And so

We've started our frozen embryo replacement cycle. Nothing much to it really. I rang the clinic on day one to confirm (we're now a couple of days in), they send me out the necessary forms so that they can track my natural cycle with blood tests (we're drug free for this one - and also relieved that Diagnostic handles all fertility blood stuff) and scans, then come ovulation they thaw out one of our little warriors and pop goes the embryo, as it were.

The only question I had really was about the thawing of the embryo(s), and what happens if it doesn't survive the thaw. I wondered if that cycle would be a bust and we'd have to do over, and then potentially do over and over for the next 5 months or so. But no, if the embryo doesn't survive, then the clinic gets our consent to thaw another and we continue to move forward. It didn't escape me that at the end of the cycle we could be pregnant, or potentially have lost all our embryos, but it's the nature of the beast isn't it, when you're dealing with an unnatural beast. However it plays out, whether our family is complete with Cuinn or there's another little ginger shockwave on its way, we're good. Relaxed. Celebrating the little ginger we already have. Looking forward positively, but not foolishly. I think.

There was something else I was going to say, but I've forgotten, so you can have more kid pictures instead.

Watching Kidzone in the morning. No idea why it's more awesome done in a trolley dangling a water bottle, but apparently it is.

Helping Dad cook dinner. It was really cute as he poured left over stock into the measuring cup (you can kind of see him tipping the carton up), until he poured the stock from the measuring cup all over the bench. To be fair, he was aiming for the blue bowl, but the kitchen did smell rather chickeny afterwards.

On his new bike which is MUCH easier for Mama and Dad courtesy of the nice long intended-for-big-people-to-use handle. Excellent. Photos are fuzzy obviously because it was very important that we didn't stop moving. Still, you can see a happy little face.

Busy in the rain

(In case it crosses your mind that he may actually be less playing with/peering into the manky water in the wheelbarrow, and more about to drink it - you'd be right)

It's been a month? Oops.

Sooo ... quick run down ... the little ginger has done lots of changing and as a result, he's done lots of being awesome, and lots of being absolutely revolting. You've seen no blogging basically because when he's being awesome, we're hanging out and I'm in a semi-collapsed heap breathing a sigh of relief, and when he's being revolting ... well. The revolting-ness seems to be related to teething (we don't like teeth at all in this house. Not even a little bit. He took months to cut through his top molars, and even now they're still working their way out, and now his bottom molars have started. Vile. V-I-L-E. Bad teeth), and new routines related to growing up. The bit that does me in to the core, is trying to work out what the bellowing is all about. We sort of end up working on a cold/warm/hot basis for a couple of weeks till be get there. I know how hot/warm/cold I am based on how loud the bellowing is. If I need ear muffs, I apparently need to pay more attention. If I can flick through a Vogue, but not actually concentrate to read anything, then I'm heading to warm, and if the little ginger appears cheerful, cruises through the morning and succumbs to a nap with ease, nailed it!

Anyway ... the month in pictures.

Perhaps an indication that the child likes Pamol a little bit tooooo much.

Marmitey cruskity goodness.

After a tough morning at the zoo, also apparently under a blue moon.

This one you can't really see too well, but the gist of it is that the kid discovered that post-its stick reeeally well to the border collie, and spent quite some time sticking them on her through the child-gate. I now need to thieve more post-its from the office.

Coolest of duvet covers for when we transition to his big boy room, in about 15 years.

Cuinn loves helping make a 'hot cuppa' (standing on a chair at the bench) and in particular loooooves the coffee machine, so we found this and he's lived happily every after making 'cuppa' after 'cuppa' in the lounge. It even came with a little wooden milk carton and sugar bowl and teaspoon.

Training. And, interestingly (although I don't have photos as yet) after a good 9 years of marriage, I still can't get the husband to put his shoes away, however when I turned my attention to training the kid to put the husband's shoes away by convincing him that putting Dadda's shoes away is the. coolest. thing. ever. I've gotten much further. Go figure.

And did I mention we're doing an embryo transfer next month? More on that later, but in the meantime, I've ordered a nice, docile, non-ginger girl. What d'you think my chances are?

A little bit of all sorts

It's becoming increasingly awesome to hang out with earmuffs on. Don't ask me why, because you'd think if it was important to anyone to be wearing earmuffs with a ginger kid in the house, it'd be important to me. But, there ya go.


He's either giving his Dad a kiss, or attempting to maul him. There was no hollering relating to biting, so I guess it was loves.

More hanging out with earmuffs, this time with a container of frozen peas because apparently they're awesome too.

In which frozen peas escape ... tricky little buggers.

One assumes he had a plan with the flour and the spatula, but I wasn't quite willing to let it play out.

His new backpack. Uber cute.

Our fort. And by our, I mean his. I tried to make it ours, but I got a bit stuck.

And finally, Daddy teaching him some appalling food-time habits.