This morning, on Father's Day, my vagina and I got to hang out (literally), with the man who made us parents. It was my last sonogram before the big retrieval. Turns out, my ovaries are showing off and my 11 follicles have jumped to 14. FOURTEEN!
Now, not all are "mature". Technically this means they aren't large enough to retrieve, but I like to imagine somewhere on my ovary a tiny egg is pulling hair and calling everyone names. Either way, the doctor most likely won't get the immature ones at the retrieval. He thinks 12 is probably our lucky number. Same as we got last time. I'm going for a baker's dozen. We shall see what Tuesday brings.
This is exciting on a lot of levels, but mainly because this means no more injections! I hate those little pricks.
After my Friday appointment I had to swing by the pharmacy to get a single dose of Follistim. It cost me $279. For one injection. To add insult to injury, I hit another vein injecting my ridiculously overpriced meds and bled all over my favorite nightgown. But that's all over now, because I only have one injection left, and it's a doozy.
My trigger shot. This one means business. It’s a pain in my ass. Literally.
I remember last time I couldn't sleep on that side for a few days. It's a deep muscle injection that has to be delivered at a precise time on the upper quadrant of my behind. Dan will be the lucky one who gets to administer this monster at 12:45 a.m. Monday. Then the waiting game begins.
You've heard of waiting for the ball to drop? Well, we are waiting for the eggs to drop, and unfortunately for Dan, his balls to be cut open. Speaking of which, looks like Dan's TESE procedure will happen early Tuesday morning. We will drive together to the surgery center. He'll go first. I'll wait in the lobby, fasting, till 11:45 a.m. when it is my turn to go under.
Afterwards, I'll feel groggy and spend some time in recovery. I'm sure I'll wake up with dry mouth, shouting "How many? HOOOOOWWW MANY?????" Then home we go to await the (hopefully) good news.
The following day, we discover how many embryos we actually have. We are doing ICSI where they basically hand-pick a sperm at random and shove it into my egg. And the lucky winner is..... Hopefully not a dud.
Not all will make it through the process. We'll get a call on Wednesday letting us know how many eggs were successfully fertilized. Last time I think we had 10. Then, the waiting continues.
Sunday is our next big day, and not only because it will be the Game of Thrones season finale, but because normally on Day Five we would receive a call letting us know how many have made it that far. Last time it was eight! However, because this time it lands on a Sunday, our little blastocysts will be all alone and no one will check in with us. Apparently there is an additional fee for childcare on the weekends. All the scientists take the day off. I'm assuming, so they can go home and watch Game of Thrones.
Monday morning, June 27, we'll show up to the surgery center, knowing nothing and hoping for everything. We'll wait silently in the lobby for our name to be called. We'll be escorted back to a room and then... Then, we will know.
Until then my friends, let's hope for a happy ending. Both for my family and the Starks.