Posts Tagged ‘ivp’


December 14, 2008

Pregnancy testing early: to do or not to do, that is the question. Right now, scores of you are probably thinking, ‘Don’t do it! What if you get a false negative and it makes you feel all desperate and depressed?’

As I said to TMD last night, I know I am pregnant – I just want confirmation.

So before we went to bed we put out a cup for me to pee in this morning, an expensive pregnancy test, and a lot of discussion. I said that I would have to approach this calmly.





What? How can this be so? Are you sure you see the line? You see the line, right? Why aren’t I more happy? Do you definitely see the line? Let’s take the test back into bed with us and see if the line is still visible in dim lighting. I see it. I really fucking see the line? Do you? You knew you were pregnant, so maybe this is anti-climactic? Is the line fading? Do you still see it?

My pal Pregnancy Line appeared almost instantly. It’s quite faint as, let’s face it, this is very early days. If I tested again in a few days, it would likely be much darker. But in the meantime, as the people on the pregnancy message boards say, A LINE IS A LINE.





(What happens on existere stays on existere, please. No facebook messages or banners outside the house. You are literally the first people to know. I tried to call my sister and she’s apparently out on the town, so I want my family to know by my mouth, not by facebook’s…um, face. Thanks!)


 Feeling quite shaky and carrying the pregnancy test around with me wherever I go. Also carrying around a baby or two with me wherever I go. So freaky!


Ten points for me.

December 13, 2008

Today’s been innnnteresting. This ‘morning’ featured me getting into a blind rage regarding food. I’d just had some toast and juice, and then was ragingly hungry. Poor TMD was trying to sort things out, while I’m screaming at her in a growling sort of way.

The next thing I know, I am howling and crying. Not normal crying. Like screaming crying. Drawing in a big lungful of air, then screaming it out, tears flying everywhere. It took a long time for me to stop crying.

My ass has woken from its 30 hour coma as well. I’ve pooped more times than you would care to imagine today. It feels just like it did after the egg collection – it actually hurts to sit upright. Like I have a giant limb up my ass.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, we are going to put up the Christmas tree!

Teeth make people pretty, most of the time.

December 12, 2008

Last night was like some sort of maternal Fear Factor. I kept doing things and then thinking, ‘Fuck, why did I do that? I hope I didn’t hurt the babies!’

I don’t know what you know about pessaries. If you stick ’em up your pooper, those puppies are secure and will not come out or leak until you poop ’em out. (Incidentally, I’ve not pooped in over 24 hours. WTF.) When you stick them in the vadge department, as soon as they reach body temperature they begin to ooze out your cootch. There is no nice way to say it.

So you really want to lie down for about 30 minutes after insertion to give the meds a chance to be absorbed before you sit up and essentially piss yourself with white creamy stuff.

Last night I was doing the group with the kids. So I donned my trusty latex glove (there was no soap in the bathroom. Thank god I thought to bring a glove in case of this situation arising), shoved my bullet baby nice and high, and then promptly ushered ten screaming children into a van, where I then spent the next two hours being bumped around, herding children into their various homes, etc.

It is a big ass van/bus thing. And the door kind of sticks.

At one occasion last night, I couldn’t get it open at all. I had already thought of the fact that pulling very hard wasn’t good, but nonetheless I had to keep trying to pull open this sliding door. When I got back in the van, I had constant, very bad cramping.

Of course I freaked out.

There has been no blood. I am hoping that this happened to coincidentally be the time the embryo/embryos decided to fully implant. If I had bled last night or this morning, I would not have forgiven myself.

It’s been a relief to lie down all last night, spend my full 30 minutes making out with my pessary this morning, etc.

I also vomited into the bathroom sink last night. Brushing my teeth has always carried a slight risk of The Gag Factor, but last night I vomited in the toilet. When I tried to brush again, I couldn’t make it to the toilet (next to the sink, I hasten to add), and threw up in the sink. This morning when I leaned over to rinse after brushing – no toothbrush anywhere – I started massively gagging again.

I don’t claim this is morning sickness. I have been fighting a slight vomit feeling this morning, but really only when I think about how I threw up last night.

I hope I don’t develop an aversion to maintaining healthy teeth and gums, yo. No kid wants a mom without teeth.


December 11, 2008

My side of the story:

I was just drying off after the shower. While drying my left arm, a tiny corner of the towel very lightly brushed my right nipple.

My right nipple’s side of the story:

That crazy bitch used a cheese grater on me this morning!

Ten more days till the stick peeing.

December 10, 2008

Thanks to everyone who left comments on the previous entry. I haven’t been online because, for the most part, I’ve been hanging out on the couch. Initially from the egg collection hurt-a-thon, and then to just take it nice and easy. I’ve had hella HELLA bad stomach pains – apparently from the hormones.

Don’t have a huge amount of time to write now, but I will say this about the embryo transfer (and forgive me if I already said it):

There was an ultrasound machine right next to the table I was lying on. I thought this was pretty fucking fantastic, as it meant I would be able to watch the babies go back in. So. I started intently at the big black space.

I got a bit confused when I could feel them doing stuff to my cha-cha and I still couldn’t see anything on the screen. Kept squinting and wondering why I couldn’t see the big plastic tube anywhere. Eventually decided that the doctors must have Super Sonic Vision and, as a mere lay person, of course I couldn’t see anything.

Afterwards, they printed out the snapshot of my uterus. The nurse casually gestured, saying, ‘This is the bladder, the uterine lining, the embryos.’ When she left the room for a minute, I turned to TMD and hissed, ‘I was looking at the bladder! I didn’t see a thing! Did you? Please tell me you did.’

No. She was looking at the bladder, too.

Oh well.

I’ve had some twinges and pains in my uterus within the time frame the clinic gave us for implantation (they said within 48 hours, but I doubt this from my extensive google research). That passed.

Today I’ve been having WICKED cramping in my lower back that has, of course, entirely freaked me out. Fear not. Google says this is common.

My boobs are also quite veiny. Of course, there’s no way to know if I had this many veins because we didn’t memorise my mammographical layout beforehand. Going through IVF? Memorise your boobs first so you KNOW it if veins appear.

The good thing is that since we have started mapping out the terrain, more veins have appeared. I also appeared to have a bunch of burst blood vessels in my left eye. Not sure my eye has anything to do with anything, but thought I’d mention it.

My ovaries seem to have settled down, but I am so bloated I easily look four months pregnant.

Oh! Other thing: heartburn. And constant burping.

Of course all these are new things, but at the same time I’m also taking a new medication (as of last Wednesday, anyway), so there can be no clarity as it what these symptoms stem from.

But you know what?

I think I’m pregnant.

I went through a total freak-out on Saturday re: whether I really wanted this, whether I was ready, etc. I’m over that now. I feel pregnant and I want this baby/babies.

‘It’s all up to the embryos now,’ the doctor said.

December 7, 2008

Just here for one of my five second forays into being in an upright position.

Had embryo transfer yesterday. For those in the know, I had two 8 cell grade 1+ embryos transferred. The most cells an embryo can be at a 3 day transfer is eight cells, so these little puppies were doing very well. Embryos are also graded on fragmentation (no fragmentation is the most desirable). Grade 1 is the highest they can be – and we got a little plus.

Picture a circle with eight little blobs in it, times two.

Essentially, these are the highest grade/quality embryos is it possible to get. The others weren’t so good, and none of them were suitable for freezing.

After the transfer as I was lying somewhat inverted on a table, the lovely nurse there kept going on and on about how sure she was I would get pregnant. She said this quality of embryo generally leads to a positive outcome, and she also said she wasn’t just trying to give me false hope. Essentially, my age, the quality of both embryos, and my kick ass lining are  winning combination.

I am, of course, terrified that the little babies won’t find my uterine lining somehow. That they will just continue to float somewhere in the middle. So cross your fingers!!!

We got our first ultrasound picture yesterday, of both embryos in their first seconds in my womb. Will try to post that when I am back in the world of not lying horizontal all the time. Still, horizontal is good – I discovered this early morning kid’s show called Yu Gi Oh GX – the most fucking stupid show on the planet. It held myself and TMD spellbound. Afterward she kept saying things in her Yu Gi Oh voice. The embryos probably thought there was an earthquake, I was shaking so hard with laughter.

Perhaps TMD will write more about the actual transfer later.

I need to go.

Last piece of news: I’m now taking the ass bullets in my Va Gi Na GX, and the resulting melting discharge makes my pubic hair look like snow capped hair mountains.

More on egg collection. Also, I heart private health care.

December 4, 2008

I’ve got a picture of the gross vein thing in my right hand, but fear not, it’s not on the computer yet.

I’m not exactly sure where I was in the Telling of the Egg Collection Saga. Fairly certain I stopped with fearing I would slide off the table, and the nurse telling me I was going to feel totally wacked up after the second injection.

And that’s the last shred of conversation I remember. I don’t remember any talking during the egg collection – surely there must have been some? I also don’t remember my feet getting up on the stir-ups. I was told beforehand that the ‘twilight sedation’ (will avoid any obvious jokes!) would mean that I could hear the nurse and talk to her. God only knows if I did.

My real fear was farting during the procedure.

Anyway, I also have no recollection of being put into a wheelchair, talking to TMD, or falling asleep for ten minutes in recovery. I guess I kept asking the nurses and TMD over and over how many eggs had been collected. In a loud voice. Along with my declaration of, ‘I felt everything’ at the near-top of my lungs. Shortly after waking up, which happened pretty quickly, I hurt. I immediately asked Ann, my pal the nurse, for some painkillers.

Time seems wobbly at this point. I swallowed two pills. Then the nurse-with-the-serious-drugs came over and said, ‘I heard you’re in agony.’  She was going to inject something into me, before that damned Ann told her I’d taken tablets. I heard whispered conversation along the lines of, ‘Why does she hurt so bad?’ Then Ann ‘fessed up and told My Drug Dealing Nurse that they hadn’t given me the ass bullet designed to thwart pain, due to my asthma.

Then Lovely Druggie Nurse came back to sit by my and rub my leg. She suggested I shift over onto my side and lie flat, as this would take the pressure off my ovaries. She stayed and chatted for ages, and then said she would come back to see how I was doing in a bit, as if I needed more pain meds she could dose me up.

I remember saying we had to call Aussie – so I did. Also asked TMD again (!) how many eggs had been collected.

A short while after, I was up and at ’em. After being told I would feel sleepy all day, I was a bit surprised to feel completely awake. Druggie Nurse came back, I said I was much better, so she took the IV thing out of my hand. She also said that the drugs she had given me had a side effect of euphoria, so I might be experiencing the tail end of that.

(Trust me, dear readers, euphoria was NOT my frame of mind! Ha!)

Nursie also explained that if I got heavy cramps with my period, it was unavoidable that I would feel more pain after an egg collection than others. Not quite sure of the logic of that, but it sounded good.

We then got a visit from the  lady who had done the egg collection. She explained they’d got seven vials of fluid from my ‘very juicy follicles’, and that seven was a high number. Also something about the number 4? Fuck knows. After given the all clear to leave and a paper bag full of pessaries (ass bullets!) we left. Got a taxi to the train station, at which point we had a slight detour while I demanded we go across the street to buy veggie sushi.

I just felt tender, sore, full – but could already tell those eggs were outta me. Apparently the ovaries go into mini-seizures after an egg collection, so that’s why. They’re also still very swollen. I had some bleeding after the op, but it’s done today. Thankfully. That made me nervous – I suppose it was essentially spotting, but with a couple of strands of clot-like substance. (TMI? Deal.)

Despite the feast on the train and feeling wide awake, I passed out within minutes of getting home and slept for hours. Then last night we had our first at-home ass bullet insertion. This was less crazy than the first shot, though I will say I dropped it on the floor and put it in anyway. Go ahead: judge me.

Today I feel much better. Only took painkillers when I first woke up, which is a big difference to gobbling mass amounts every four hours yesterday. My ass is a bit peculiar, though. (Okay, it’s going to be TMI for a minute, so you can skip ahead if you don’t like poop talk.)

I still feel like I’ve got to poop a lot – just as I did before the egg collection. But when I sit on the toilet, even for a pee, sweet jesus. It’s like a mass amount of pressure pushing down, and it is tres painful. Particularly if actual poo is involved. You know those occasions when you are trying to push out a piece of poop that is clearly too big for the alloted space? The ripping pain? Yeah, it’s like that every time. Add that to my anxiety around pooping out my pessaries, and you’ve got a version of me that is even more shit-obsessed than I was before this whole IVF thing.

Because, incidentally, I did poop out some pessary yesterday evening.

I think I can switch to sticking them up the hole where it’s much more usual for things to be stuck once the embryos are transferred. I guess that’s messier than the poop shoot, but who cares? I want to be able to poop when I need to poop, you know?

The only other thing I haven’t written about on here is my stomach pain. This is decidedly different from my ovaries, which I can still feel with an unfortunate deadly accuracy. This feels like I haven’t eaten in a week – very sharp, severe pain.

I took my hCG trigger shot on Monday night. I woke up before dawn on Tuesday morning with ripping stomach pains, sure I was somehow starving. The same thing happened on Wednesday morning. This does NOT happen normally.

Today the pain has been there all day. My natural reaction is to feed the hunger, as though it is a rapid dog to be feared. So I shove food in, the pain goes away for a few hours, then the hunger gods need to be appeased once more. Let me reiterate: this is not normal hunger. This is PAIN.

WTF, you know? Any enlightenment welcome, particularly as my last bout of frantic eating only appears to have muted the pain.

I’m thinking – gas, stress, or the trigger shot. But I don’t get gas pains as a rule, and let me assure you that in the parping department, much air is flowing. (A side effect of the bullets is flatulence. TMD is not amused, because I already do more than my fair share.) I guess another possibility is the shitty food I’ve been eating.

But, ow.

My embryo transfer is arranged for 11 am on Saturday. Start crossing your phalanges now!!

PS – Seriously, I need to remember to tell you about de-icer and spilled cologne.

PPS – TMD is so cute. I got a text earlier saying that she can’t concentrate because she is so excited. Me? I am just sitting here stinking up the flat. Even the cat is disgusted.

Unwatched pots do boil

December 4, 2008

Morning everyone. Thanks for the lovely and supportive comments. Keep ’em coming!

The clinic hasn’t called yet, which *fingers crossed* is a good sign. If they needed us to come in today for an embryo transfer, I think they would have phoned by now. I hope all 8 of our lovely mature eggs have fertilised and are dividing away. Little miracles.

I’m much better than I was yesterday. Apparently I kept repeating myself after the op, which I was warned ahead of time I would do. I guess when I was wheeled back to the recovery room in a wheelchair (which I have no remembrance of), the first thing I said to TMD was, ‘I felt everything.’

Right afterwards it all seemed hot, fresh, and painful. I did experience the egg collection as hurting a lot, and I have recollections of them giving me more drugs while it was going on. Oddly enough, though, I don’t actually remember it. For instance, my ass was all the way at the bottom of this table, with my feet on a stool. I remember worrying I was going to slide right off the table when I was sober – let alone with the drugs. Within seconds of the first shot going in I was doped up.

I remember the nurse saying, ‘If you feel dopey now, wait till I get this one in you!’ And that’s the


OH MY GOD. The clinic just called! I am crying. I am so happy.

Of the 8 they did ICSI with, ALL EIGHT HAVE FERTILISED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I am trying to get through to TMD, so this might be disjointed. —- Okay, just got off phone with TMD. Going to keep things disjointed, though!

Crazy Name Nurse rang with the news. She just kept saying, ‘This is fabulous news. Well done you! I am so excited for you!’

I also said, ‘I hope things have gone well for the recipient as well.’

CNN (ha – what an acronym) said, ‘She’s had fabulous news this morning as well. She is so excited!!’

I feel almost as happy for her as I do for us!! Now we have eight little babies growing in a lab. Two of them will go back into my uterus on Saturday morning.

I want to write more about the egg collection and the ass bullets, but for now I think I need a breather.

EIGHT FERTLISED out of eight mature eggs!!!!! I am overflowing with gratitude to everyone who has played any part in this journey, including those of you who are being so supportive here.


Who says bloated tummies aren’t hot?

December 2, 2008

My stomach a few days ago. Notice the blooooaaaatttttttting. The tasty looking bruise in the picture looks about a million times better than it did the day after the shot. The only really bad bruise, and it’s all down to TMD. After this shot o’ bruising, I took over doing my shots again. Ha.


And here we have the bloated tum o’ fun yet again – this is seconds after MY LAST SHOT. Indeed, this is the trigger shot. What’s delightful about this is that rather than ‘pinching the skin’ around the area, everything is stretched so tight and bloated that I have to just grab on to the entire hunk of lower abdomen in order to squeeze anything.


Actually, looking at that picture, that’s me actually giving the shot. See all the liquid still in the syringe? It’s like a live action movie.


And here’s a document with a heading guaranteed to make you sit up and take notice:


And, finally, the only member of the household that shows only a pasing interest in IVF:


So. Today’s my first day off work. I don’t feel any bad symptoms at all. The trigger shot is actually hCG. This is the pregnancy hormone – it’s what pee-on-a-stick pregnancy tests are looking for. I injected myself with 10,000 iu. The fact that I’ve gone from zero to baby-hormones with no real side effects at this point will no doubt make me feel sane while I’m waiting to do a pregnancy test.

The info they gave us says they send us away with a home pregnancy test. No blood test? I know this country is different than others that test hormone levels every other day to see if it looks like a twin/singleton pregnancy, making sure everything is developing, etc. But a home pregnancy test? It seems like such an ordinary way to end an extraordinary IVF cycle.

Let’s hope that test makes an appearance on this diary in a few weeks, and it’s a big, juicy positive.

Pulling the trigger. (or: go on, congratulate me) (and: the shot was completed only 4 minutes late)

December 2, 2008

Dude, what the fuck. I wish we had just videotaped The Final Shot, just so you could see how cracked up we look. I had been lying on the couch in a stupor for about an hour beforehand, thisclose to falling asleep – and terrified of doing so because we would miss our 10:30 appointment with our little science experiment.

So my glasses are all crooked, my eyes are red, I’m so tired I’m shaking. TMD is all serious and scared. She has cleared off the end of our (new!) table. I begin to lay things out – two vials of powder, one vial of liquid, two needles, one syringe, the SHARPS container…She says, ‘Let’s just stop for a minute. I’m going to take a picture, otherwise I know you will be sad.’ Sensing the innate wisdom in this, I pause and smile obligingly.

My hands were shaking as I tried to suck up liquids from various vials, flick needles, bead medications. I think the final vial we were in a position of TMD holding the tiny glass vial in the air, tilted – so I could suck up the medicine while also being able to see how much was left in the jar through the 2 mm area where the label did not cover.

I have to say, that was the absolute best shot of the entire treatment. Not just because it was the last, although that was awesome, but because it didn’t really hurt at all. Nada. And it was a whole lotta shot, let me tell you.

So. My tummy gets a brief recovery period from the endless needles. Somehow I don’t think I can enjoy this, since I am so bloated and pained that every time I sneeze I have to yell, ‘Oh JESUS, the PAIN,’ afterwards.

Now. Did you know I was raised Catholic? My whole family is very into superstition and omens. Here is my brief foray into it.

I called my mom to tell her I’d finished the shot. This was also a novel experience since I would never call her on a weeknight. With the time difference I’m usually asleep before she would get home. While I’m in (the baby’s) the spare room, TMD runs in and says, ‘Oh my god! Look what the calender says on Monday. It’s the Immaculate Conception!’

My mother says, ‘What is she saying?’

‘December 8. The immaculate conception.’  I raise an eyebrow at TMD, who is so tired she has burst through the wall of Crazy and is clutching the calender and dancing around chanting, ‘The immaculate conception! Ha! That’s brilliant!’

My mother says, ‘I’ll tell you what else is December 8.’


‘Mass at 7 pm. I was just writing it on the calender.’

Now, this is creepy coincidental. We certainly do not go out of our way to buy calenders that showcase events in Jesus’ life, though one or two seem to come standard. And as TMD points out, we’ve never taken note of the immaculate conception before. And TMD and my mother both looking at December 8 at the exact same time, on opposite sides of the globe?

And you know why this is special?

Because if the embryos go back in on Saturday, there is a very real chance they would be implanting – thus making me properly pregnant – on December 8. Semi-immaculately, you could argue.

If you aren’t stunned by this amazing and shining coincidence, then you need to stay awake for 20 hours, play with impossibly small vials of medication that are VERY IMPORTANT, inject yourself, and then read this again. I guarantee it will gain some sort of significance then.