Not So Quick Post-Transfer Update



Well, the transfer is over and now the two week wait begins.  Things are very different at the offices up here than they are where I usually go.  It is the same fertility center, but a different branch and I like my branch sooooooo much better.  People are not quite as friendly and the attention is not as personal up here, but it doesn’t matter…so long as I get pregnant.

I started out with pre-transfer acupuncture, and slept like a baby through the whole thing (always a good sign).  The acupuncturist was awesome, although The Prince was quite convinced that the man smokes copious amounts of pot.  If not, he is just the most mellow man in the world.  I don’t care either way…he was great. 

Then it was on to transfer.  They weren’t concerned about The Prince’s eye, as he was up by my head and was in his usual scrubs, hair net, goggles outfit.  The doctor came in and said that we had 12 amazing blasts, the most beautiful batch he had ever seen.  Seriously!!!  All 12 of the fertilized eggs made it to 5 day blastocytes.  Go donor and go super swimmers.  The picture above is the picture of our little litter.

After showing us the picture, the doctor asked if we wanted to put only 10 or all 12 back in and then laughed.  He agreed with our assessment that two was the best number for us.  He left for awhile, came back in with a nurse and a resident (who observed only) and asked me to skootch down on the table.  Here’s where it started to suck…without any warning he put a cold speculum in, scraping the top of ..well…you know…as he went.  My doctor at home warms the speculum, lubes everything up really well, gives you lots of warning, asks if the pressure is okay, and apologizes the whole way through.  This doctor…not such a romancer.  I yelped and he said “Did that hurt?  Okay, I want you to close your eyes and say ‘I am relaxed, this is easy.’”  I was trying to breath through the pain, but he kept insisting that I “say the mantra,” so I said it to appease him.  I wanted to say “Let me stick that speculum somewhere on you while you say ‘I am relaxed and this is easy,’” but I refrained.

Then, the doctor said “I’ll be right back” and actually left the room with me laying there with the speculum in.  That was new experience for me…and not a pleasant one I must say.  A minute went by, then 5…I was ready to send The Prince out to see what was going on when the crew came back in with our embies in the catheter.  I deep breathed, as instructed, during the actual transfer…and then the best part….

The doctor (who is a bit of a hippy if I haven’t mentioned that before…seriously…like he’s a guru and doctor) took my hand and The Prince’s hands and asked us to form a “hand circle” for “the most important part of the whole process.”  The doctor then asked us to close our eyes (like we were saying Grace) and he said “I want you to see these two most beautiful, amazing, awesome embryos settling into your uterus, as your uterus holds and squeezes them…filling them with love.  Now I want you to picture them growing into babies and you holding those babies in your arms on the day they are born.  If you believe, you can manifest anything.  Believe in these babies.  Say it with me, ‘I believe’….”

At that point, The Prince, a devout atheist and hater of all things hokey, was squeezing my hand so hard, I thought it was going to break off.  I finally conceded and chanted “I believe” with the guru…uh hm…doctor, and he left the room, instructing us to continue manifesting our desired outcome over the next couple of weeks.  It was sweet, really, but hilarious, too.  I started laughing as soon as the door shut behind the doctor, even though I was trying not to because I didn’t want to push out the embryos.  The Prince said I owe him big time because he refrained from laughing while the guy was in there…and he let the doctor hold his hand.  (On a strange side note, The Prince then told me that the doctor must work out because he has the hand muscles that only people who lift heavy weights get…strange how much attention he was paying to that doctor’s hand…but whatever).  I stayed on the table for half an hour, not sure what we were waiting for (manifesting time, maybe?) because no one was big on giving us much information while we were there. 

Finally, a nurse came in and gave us a picture of the two embryos we put in…the best of the best!  (See below)

I went back for another session of acupuncture, and fell asleep so hard, that the acupuncturist had my husband come in to wake me up.  When I awoke and The Prince explained what had happened.  I said, “Well go get the guy so he can take the needles out of me.”  The Prince explained that the poor guy already had removed all the needles and had gently shaken me…but then literally couldn’t wake me up.  And I hadn’t even taken a Valuum this time, as they forgot to give me one before the procedure.  The Prince apparently gave me a light punch in the arm, which did the trick.  Nice.

I’m back at the hotel now.  The Prince is gone and I am on my own for the next couple of days.  I’ve already sampled the room service and I really lucked out in picking this hotel…the room service was delicious!  I think I’m going to sleep now and dream happy dreams of two little babies growing in my belly.  I’ll write more tomorrow.  Have a Happy Hamish Day, everyone. 

Into the Mystic

In spite of my recent positive shift in attitude, I have been feeling really disconnected from this upcoming cycle.  Usually, I would be getting excited, even hopeful, at this point in the process.  Being so close to getting the ball rolling is usually the point when I begin to check on what my due date would be, look through baby name books and get serious with my healthy eating.  This time is different.  Maybe it is because of my nagging reservations about using a donor.  Maybe it is because after so many heartbreaks, I’m just having difficulty mustering up excitement.  I’m not sure why I feel this way, but I am sure that I need this outlook to change.  I need to be at least cautiously optimistic before I start the fertility meds, or I will be a wreck going into the “meat and potatoes” part of the cycle.

In fairy tales, when a princess is feeling low, she often gets a little help from a magical character, object or creature.  Cinderella had her fairy godmother to help her.  Sleeping Beauty had the final fairy’s wish to give her a possible out from the bad fairy’s curse.  So what mystical solution do I need to get things back on track?

In the past, I have pursued acupuncture, meditation, hypnosis, vision boards, attempting to harness the power of the “law of attraction,” praying and even consulting a psychic (when you are desperate, you can throw skepticism out the window).  I’m not saying that all of these alternative therapies/practices are “mystical,” but, with the possible exception of prayer, they are generally outside of the norm in our culture.  My fertility clinic encourages the combination of Eastern and Western approaches to treating infertility, so they sort of guided me into the acupuncture and meditation.  In fact, I spent well over two thousand dollars on acupuncture during my second and third years of infertility treatments.  I've taken a hiatus from my treatments since November, when I just couldn't stand to even think about trying to get pregnant.  Although my migraines were better and my immune system was stronger when I was getting acupuncture, I didn’t get pregnant...and really, that was all I cared about.  Some of the other “mystical” remedies made me feel good emotionally during ART cycles, but they also didn’t get me to my goal of pregnancy.

I am pretty open to any suggestions about bettering myself and increasing my fertility.  But there are some things that have been recommended to me that are so outside of my scope of reality, I just can't stomach them.  For example, one time a person was brought into the support group I used to attend, at the clinic I go to for ART, so that she could share her "gifts" with us.  She owns a crystal shop and does life coaching and “spiritual healing.”  She spent the whole time (that would normally be allotted to our venting and comforting one another) talking about how we needed to “raise our vibrations.”  She claimed that by use of crystals, meditations, etc, we could raise our vibrations to the level that spirit babies (disembodied baby souls waiting to slip into a mother’s womb) would respond to.  Apparently you have to think only happy thoughts during a journey with infertility, because sadness, anger and depression will scare the spirit babies away.  When asked about how you set aside open wounds so that you can "raise your vibration," her answer was less than satisfactory.  I should note that she also started off the night saying that she had dealt with infertility and had beat it…only to later explain that she “beat it” by realizing that her business was her baby.  Yeah.  Not really the same thing in my opinion.  She also told the husbands who were attending the meeting that they were responsible for keeping their mates' vibrations high by being good vibrators themselves.  The discussion about the men being “good vibrators” was the highlight of the evening.  It almost became a game to see how many times we could get her to say "good vibrators."  Some mystical remedies are easy to reject...being good for little more than a laugh. 

But now I wonder, what is left?  Do I turn back to the “old faithfuls” for comfort?  Do I venture off into some new, uncharted alternatives?  Friends have recommended a female shaman in our area.  I’ve previously passed on Tibetan monk cleansing rituals that are supposed to be healing, but maybe I should be pursuing some outside intervention.  I haven’t tried cranial massage therapy or reiki yet.  What do I do?  Which one is going to be the magical fix to the funk I am in?  Which one will help me reach my goal of pregnancy?

I have been looking into weekend retreats lately.  There are a couple of ashrams, a monestary and a couple of yoga retreat centers close to where I live.  I’ve gone on silent meditation weekend retreats in the past and have found them to be very liberating.  When you are forced to be silent, you work through all of those dialogues with yourself that you generally push away because you are too busy to deal with them.  Once those are out of the way, you begin to become quiet – mentally, physically and emotionally.  There is a non-denominational spiritualism that automatically takes over…and it feels really good. (Plus I lose a bunch of weight by eating…or should I say by "not eating"…the vegan food they serve).  But I am never able to keep up on “my practice” once I return to everyday life, and slowly the good feeling and self-certainty dwindles away.  So far, I haven’t made any commitment to going on such a retreat.  I know that I can go any time, but I also know that we have a huge payment for our donor cycle due soon, and it is difficult to justify spending money on extras right now.

I wish I knew where my mystical fix could be found.  If I knew for sure that any of the aforementioned possibilities would help, I would find the money to pursue them.  I’ve had a miserable cold for two weeks now, so I will likely start acupuncture again so that I can be reasonably confident that I will be healthy going into the IVF process.  But I’m not so sure that will turn my pumpkin into a carriage, or my uterus into a baby shack.  I don’t know if anything can break the curse of seeing the glass as half full, or break the curse of infertility, but I feel like I have to do something.  I really need some hope of success right now.  What is the magical thing that is going to help this princess get out of her predicament?  I can't yet answer that question yet, but at least I can tell you that it won't be a "good vibrator."  Even my fairy tale isn't that weird.