Apparently that is the stage our embryos were in yesterday
when we got our status update from the embryologist. The Cleavage Stage. Haha.
It’s the little things I tell ya.
In my head this stage is called the cleavage stage because under a
microscope our tinny miracles look like a giant set of ta-tas. I could be right. You don’t know, do you?
Let’s back up a bit.
Saturday was our egg retrieval.
We arrived at the hospital at 7:30am and J was rushed off immediately to
do his thing. Talk about phenomenally
bad planning. Who’s bright idea was it
to get women hoped up on a whole crap ton of estrogen, have them report in for
surgery, and then, just as you finish telling them about all the scary poking
and prodding they will soon experience, take their husbands away? How on earth was I NOT supposed to lose my
shit?!? I was a little cranky about it.
I wasn’t afraid to tell the nurse what I thought about these logistics as I was escorted to my pre and post op room.
She handed me a fashionable gown that left my ass hanging in the wind. You know the kind. I climbed
under the covers and braced myself as people breezed in and out briefing me on different
aspects of the procedure. I got an IV,
had my blood pressure taken, and was given a variety of drug cocktails. After all the bases were covered I was
wheeled to the operating room. That’s
when it got a little weird.
I was asked to leave my glasses behind so I was basically
blind. Once we were outside of the
operating room I was asked to scoot off the bed and walk through the door into
the room. Inside were the bright operating
lights you’d expect, five to ten people dressed in scrubs, and what looked like
a torture chair. Not only am I asked to
walk over to this chair without knock over everything in my path but they also wanted
me to “hop” into it. I’m a pretty tall
gal but this weirdo contortion device might as well have been in the sky! The nurse pointed to this small metal stool I
was supposed to step on to help me up but I was BLIND. And there were bright lights
everywhere!! I managed to knock down three trays of instruments and totally eat shit. It must have been quite a show, the highlight being
my white ass hanging out for all the world to see. Once I got in the chair they strapped me in. Yeah, you read that right. STRAPPED. ME. IN. Finally, before I could do any more damage, they knocked me out.
When I woke up I was a little woozy and sore. All I wanted was to see J. After much a moaned and groaned for awhile they went and got him. After he got there I was able to relax a
little. I was told I couldn't leave the
hospital until I peed so I started chugging sprite like it was coming out of a beer bong. I would have shotgunned that second one but J took my keys. I just wanted to go home. The nurse told us that they had successfully retrieved
30 eggs! We were floored! They sent us on our way and told us that my
pain would be manageable with Tylenol.
BITCH WAS A LIAR!!! A LIAR I TELL YOU!! By 5:30 that night my life was flashing
before my eyes. J called the RE’s office
and left a voice mail. The other doctor
in the clinic was on call and called back quickly. She asked me a bunch of questions including
how many eggs were retrieved. I told her
thirty and she immediately prescribed me some heavy duty pain killers. God bless her!! Sunday morning we got a call from the RE’s
office and were told that 22 of my eggs were mature enough to fertilize and 20
of them fertilized successfully. Yay!! The pain has gotten better but I’m still really
swollen. I look about four months
pregnant.
Flash Forward to the Cleavage. Yesterday we found out all 20 of our embryos
are moving right along and all 20 were given a level 1 rating (that’s the
highest). We are very excited. Assuming everything continues to move along
as planned, tomorrow morning we go in for the transfer. Two will be put into my uterus with the hopes
of implantation and the rest will be frozen!
Cross your fingers!
