I had my transfer on Friday. I didn't blog about it because there are bigger things happening in the world right now and even I found myself at a loss for words after last week's election. Those who know me know this is a rare occurrence. Me being speechless is like the super moon, you know it won't last and you want to take in the beauty of the moment before it passes.
In fact, so much is happening that I've forgotten to look for symptoms and analyze everything. I haven't googled anything fertility- or pregnancy-related. I've even gone as far as to completely space when friends and family ask how I'm doing. I start in on the state of our country, look up to see their blank stares and it's then that I realize they were actually asking about the state of my womb.
For those of you keeping count, this was our third IVF transfer since June. This round, we put in three blastocysts (see below for a shameless picture of my kiddos, yes I am one of THOSE parents). That is three times the amount we've put in the previous two rounds. If this doesn't get the job done, I don't know what will.
It's the first time I didn't go into seclusion for bedrest. Instead, I spent the rest of the afternoon and following day laughing with my husband and son. I stayed mainly on the couch as my husband did the heavy lifting, literally. But I still managed to play some football, soccer, and hockey all from the comfort of the couch. I stood up to do the "Pee Pee Dance" when my son used the potty. I made dinner. I yearned for one last glass of wine. It was life as usual.
We are five days in now. This is usually the time I would begin the dark spiral down the POS (pee on a stick) rabbit hole. I'm not exaggerating when I say I would wake up at 4am, 5am, and 6am because I am THAT excited to pee on a stick. However, I've booked a photography gig for Saturday. It's a baby shower and I've promised myself I won't test until after that event because I want to be present and focused on the mom-to-be.
However, my willpower is already waning. I'm in a secret FB fertility support group and I see that some of the women who transferred at around the same time are already getting their results and I'm suddenly terrified.
No matter what, we have Lloyd. Still, the stakes seem higher.
Somehow it feels like this is our "Last Chance Kitchen." After two failed attempts, my womb "phoned a friend," Dr. B answered and gifted us this last “last chance.” The Hail Mary to our Hail Mary. He called it "4th and 10" or some such football analogy. I prefer to call it my 11 o'clock number.
Bottom line? We put 3 blastocysts in. There are currently 3 babies inside me. Their genetic diagnosis? Untested. Their status? Unknown. Their mission? To boldly implant where no blastocyst (except Lloyd) has implanted before. I've been scratched, and shot, and drugged, all in the hopes that one of these tiny balls of cells sticks.
We are hoping that two tiny pink lines will appear and trump what's been a really shitty week. So here we go... again. Trying to think "positive."