I am a fairly pragmatic person. Although I am naturally excited about the prospect of a baby, I have remained realistic and level headed. Over the past six weeks I have broken the treatment down into chunks and to be honest, tried not to really think about the potential outcome. My treatment schedule indicated that I would need to sniff for just over 3 weeks, at which point I would have a scan and a blood test to determine whether down regulation had occurred. As always the staff at the clinic were efficient and friendly. I was told that I have an amazing uterus - well that's some accolade! I was shown how to inject myself with the stims which, until that point, I hadn't been vaguely bothered by. Suddenly the half inch needle looked more like a harpoon. The purpose of the injections is to overstimulate the ovaries so that lots of follicles ripen at the same time, instead of just one, as happens in normal ovulation. The following day I administered my first injection. At first I asked DH to do it for me, but the look on his face told me he was more scared than I was. I took the sheath off the needle, set the dial to release the correct amount of fluid and stared at it. Every time I moved it towards my belly I shrieked and bottled it. Eventually after 15 minutes of dithering I jabbed it in. It actually wasn't that bad, the anticipation was far worse than the experience.
I carried on with my normal activities, which included a 5 mile hill run, playing a 90 minute football match and a weight training session. I felt absolutely fine. I then read on a forum that once you start the stims you shouldn't exercise. Oh crap, I'd done loads. I knew that I would not be allowed to play any sport after the egg collection, but I hadn't mentally prepared myself for stopping prior to this. Sport is a huge part of my life and will be my biggest sacrifice should I become pregnant. I took it easy for the next few days until my 'day 9 ' scan and blood test. By now I was beginning to feel slightly tender and I was not surprised to be told that there was now way I'd be playing football that weekend. The nurse counted 11 follicles, all measuring around 11mm. She told me my ovaries were the size of small oranges -wow that's huge! Normally ovaries are about the size of almonds. No wonder they were feeling tender. I couldn't risk anything that would potentially damage them.
On day 12 of the stims I went for another scan and blood test. "You have lovely follicles" the nurse told me "everything looks perfect, you're a text book case" she said. The follicles were now measuring around 18mm, ideal for harvesting! Later that afternoon, once my bloods had been analysed, I was told that my egg collection was booked for 8.15am in two days time. I would need to take the HCG injection at exactly 7.15pm that night. This injection matures the eggs at exactly the right time. We needed to be in Oxford for the EC at 7.15am. We didn't want the stress of getting up at stupid o'clock and battling with the traffic, so we booked a nice hotel 10 minutes from the clinic and made a bit of an evening out of it.
True to form the treatment we received was second to none. The egg collection was done under sedation, which apparently means you are still conscious. To me it felt no different to the general anaesthetic I had had last year, I was completely out of it. Back in our private room after the treatment I was given a hot chocolate and slipped in and out of a pleasant sleep. The embryologist came in and informed us that they had collected 10 eggs and DH's sperm looked good. They would be incubated in a special fluid overnight and we would get a phone call in the morning telling us how many had fertilised. For the first time it was beginning to feel real.
I didn't know what time to expect the phone call. I sat in the kitchen listening to Chris Evans on the radio, writing this blog post and waiting for my phone to ring. How would I feel if none of them had fertilised? I had done some research the previous night and found statistics that suggested the average number of eggs collected was 8-15 and of those, 70% usually fertilise. Surely our chances were good. Finally the phone rang, my heart started racing and I almost dropped my phone. On the other end of the phone the embryologist spoke calmly and asked how I was feeling after the procedure (surprisingly good actually). I nervously anticipated her next words.. "I am happy to tell you that all 10 eggs have fertilised" .... wow! 100% fertilisation!! After hanging up I burst into tears. I really didn't understand what I was feeling. I began to realise that for the first time I was emotionally attached to the whole experience. Up until now it has just been a process that I have been going through. Now, suddenly, there were 10 embryos made of me and DH, in an incubator 40 miles away. Surreal. Weird. Mind boggling.
As I write this I am about nine hours away from finding out how our embryos have developed and whether they are strong enough to be cultured to day 5, where they become blastocysts. This would be the ideal outcome, as it means they can select the strongest one to pop back inside me and it has more chance of resulting in a pregnancy. If not, then they would do the transfer tomorrow. Hopefully I will be sharing good news with my next post.
