Today has been spent mostly in the company of a quiet but bone-deep fear, and seemingly certain knowledge that my IVF cycle was going to be cancelled.
It started well with the (9am) scan showing a good number of well-sized follicles on my right ovary which were all measured and the measurements noted down, and the lining of my uterus is really good, which is what we want for embryo replacement - a lovely homey environment for the little embryo to burrow into and hold on tight. The nurse was smiling at me and telling me that my scan was "what we call the perfect picture" and I was thanking every saint under the sun for this bit going smoothly. A perfect picture indeed.
Then they turned their attention to the left ovary, and it really wasn't necessary for the nurse to say "I spoke too soon when I said it was a perfect picture". I could see it myself. A black mass of follicles. Lots and lots of them.
So, not the 8/9 follicles I was hoping for, but rather closer to 30. ARGH! More than 20 of those on the left ovary. Not good. Not even close to good. At that moment, I was standing at the South Pole (with very sore, disobedient ovaries) waving at good who was kicking back with a beer at the North Pole.
I know. You'd think that lots of follicles should be a good thing, but I'm afraid it's not. It's the same sort of theory as a fruit tree - too many fruit and none of them grow properly because they're all trying to grow off the same pool of nutrients, thus meaning that said nutrients are spread way too thin. It's better to have a smaller number of good fruit than a wheel-barrow full of inedible ones. Hyper-stimulation is a big risk of IVF, increased if you're a younger woman which, in the world of IVF, I am, and it's unpleasant - extremely painful with nasty symptoms and side effects and dangerous to boot. Plus, it can result in the cancellation of the cycle. It's harsh, yes, if you're on the receiving end of a cancelled cycle ... but you can't make babies if your ovaries explode either, so thems the breaks. I'm not entirely sure if you can live if your ovaries explode actually. Huh. Better to stop and give it another go later.
Anyway, obviously, with the correct amount of freaking-outedness, and armed with a warning that this could be the proverbial nail in the coffin of this cycle, off I went for bloods to check ... something (they did tell me what but I was too busy mentally repeating shit, shit, shit, shit, shit and having a panic attack to clock what it was) ... and the results of that would confirm whether it was game over. Blood results are due in at 2pm. Sooo, that's about 5 hours of a having a really bad headache from trying to convince yourself that it would be ok if this was the end. I didn't even feel better about the possibility of no more injections oddly. Or comfort shopping. We'll blame the hormones for that one though. I can't imagine any other reason for it.
But, the results came back that my estrogen levels were within normal range and the decision had been made by the powers that be that we would continue, even though I have follicles coming out of my ears. Don't ask me how that works. All I know is that it's not over and I have scraped through this milestone by the skin of my teeth.
So, I have another scan to check progress (the hope is that some ... presumably a lot ... of the follicles will fail to develop, leaving me where I would much prefer to be - with my 'perfect picture') on Saturday morning, as well as another blood test to make sure that my whatever is still within normal range. Did I mention that the scan is at 8am?? 8am!! On a Saturday morning!! When I expressed this sentiment to the nurse with rather high-pitched horror, she laughed and responded with a well, we'll be here. I repeated this to the husband with some disgust, and he passed the observation that they will probably have been there all night, so it's not the same as having to get up at 8am. He's such a good husband patting me in the head like that. I'm all about the sympathy at moments such as these.
So, we live to inject another day. Just.
5 comments:
1. hmm, your kids are goiong to be little s&*^s . . . seriously. they are so playing with your mind making so many eggs . . .
2. 8am is not early when it comes to child birth, breast feeding, pooh accidents and the like. it is civilised, and you are pre-warned. think of it as a gentle ease in to parenthood.
3. even if that many eggs is bad, it seems marvellous to me . . . keep up the self-stabbing and cook us up a cousin for amelia.
xxx
1. I know. I'm almost wondering if I want to actually go ahead and conceive the little bastards.
2. I still live in a world where 8am on a Saturday morning is an indecent time to be awake. Leave me alone to my naievete.
3. I'm trying not to think about harvesting them all. I really hope the knock me out completely - it's just not something you want to be awake for. But, if I get my own little stapler-cuddler out of it ... I'd do it a hundred times over. (Actually, I probably wouldn't, for all the tea in China, but it sounds good. It sounds dedicated ... passionate ... medicated even).
1. Of course you want them!! Why else would you be sadistic enough to stab yourself over and over otherwise?!
2. Sorry but 8.00am is not civilised....heck it's fast approaching the middle of the night for me so I feel your pain!
3. You'll be fine with the harvesting, you are one of the most amazing strong women I know and of course you would do it a hundred times over. It's what will make you an amazing mum!
sending up a mass of extra prayers for you!
Gen ... maybe you have a point about the stabbing.
Haha! Point! Haha! Stabbing! Hehe.
Ahem.
(Don't mind me - I'm medicated. And, if by any chance you DO mind me, I'm also hormonal so keep it to yourself)
No comment. *ahem*
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