Tag: two week wait

Our IVF story: Part 5 – Pregnant or not pregnant?

June 2017 (2 years and 11 months after beginning our attempts at trying to conceive)

Waiting after our first round of IVF to find out if I was pregnant or not was pretty tough! I had basically coped by talking myself out of any possibility of it working that time. I tried to be philosophical about it all. I figured that if it had failed, then it wasn’t meant to be. I wanted my eventual baby to be strong and healthy and if it wasn’t going to be viable, then I would have to be OK with it. I still had more chances before my odds of success decreased significantly.

I had a blood test lined up for 12 days past my IVF transfer. THE blood test. The one that would tell me if I was expecting or if I would be trying again. Oh, the pressure!

In the meantime I had to insert progesterone (guess where) twice a day. It was gross and a bit annoying, but nowhere near as bad as having to inject myself.

Mr Unprepared had been really supportive while we waited. If I worried about anything, he would read about it first and then tell me only the reliable information. It made me feel so much calmer not having to sort through the noise of the internet.

Only thing was, he was getting impatient. He kept reading about all these women who took home pregnancy tests really early and got positives. He never pressured me, but I could feel that he was really really hoping I’d try to be one of those women (he’s not always known for his patience). Thing is, I had trained myself for at least the last two years to never take a pregnancy test. Just wait for my period. Because taking a test was stressful and heartbreaking and never positive. I knew that what would be, would be. Whether or not I knew a few days in advance wouldn’t change anything. If I was pregnant, I would find out eventually haha.

I had started spotting a bit. That usually happened in the days leading up to my period. I tried to brace myself for a disappointing outcome. So what if all the things on the internet said that spotting was more common in women who have had IVF and that implantation bleeding can be a thing. SO WHAT. I had done this so many times before. I was not prepared to break my own heart at home with a pee stick. Let the nurses and doctors do that with their blood test!

We made it as far as 10 days past my IVF transfer. Two days before my scheduled blood test. It was a Saturday morning of the June long weekend. I was getting myself all knotted up worrying about my period arriving and ruining everything. I was so tired of my life revolving around my period and I was nervous that a movie date with my friend in a couple of days would be a bust. I was sick of having to cancel plans (my periods were ridiculously heavy). I was sick of the unknown. I was sick of the unpredictable. I wanted to know if I was pregnant or not so I could get on with my life.

I had it in my head that it was far too early to test, but Mr Unprepared (buoyed by the resounding idiocy of the internet haha) was in disagreement. He had seen my frustration and finally he had his chance to quietly suggest I take a test. He must have been so relieved when I said I would. He wasn’t the only person dying of suspense.

He left the bedroom to tend to the Little Mister – getting him breakfast and such. I took that chance to head to the toilet with an old test I’d had in the bathroom drawer for about a year (I couldn’t believe it wasn’t out of date yet). I followed the instructions and I stood in the toilet (not in the bowl just in that tiny room haha) and waited. I knew from that fateful positive test with the Little Mister 6 years prior that if it was going to be a great result, it wouldn’t take long for the second line to show.

I wasn’t too optimistic. I figured that I might get a super faint line that you had to squint at to see. That this test might tell me nothing. But I was so sick of not knowing, I was willing to take a chance.

Soon a faint second line showed up. I sighed and thought – yep. It’s super faint. I don’t know about this.

I kept staring. The three minutes wasn’t up.

The line progressively got stronger and stronger before my disbelieving eyes. My brain really wasn’t catching up, to be honest.

 

Soon the line was only a millionth of a shade lighter than the control line.

I stood there in shock. I was willing this strange new information to go into my brain. I kept saying to myself (not out loud), YOU ARE PREGNANT. I’M PREGNANT. HOLY SHIT. I’M PREGNANT. NO FOR REAL. I’M PREGNANT. AFTER ALL THIS TIME I AM PREGNANT. LISTEN TO ME, YOU DUMBO, YOU’RE PREGNANT.

Finally it registered. I started crying. 3 years worth of tears. Oh gosh I’m tearing up writing this.

Mr Unprepared eventually managed to extricate himself from the Little Mister’s breakfast demands and came to check on me. He saw me crying and he went straight into comfort and sympathy mode. He hugged me tight and kept saying, “I’m sorry. It’s going to be alright. It’s going to be OK. I’m sorry.”

I stopped him and said, “You haven’t even looked at the test…”

“It’s negative, I know. I’m sorry.”

“I SAID YOU HAVEN’T EVEN LOOKED AT IT.”

He looked at me like I’d lost my mind, took it from me and saw the two lines.

I was hugged ferociously again and I could hear him laugh-crying in shock. He didn’t have to say it. I could hear it in his tone.

You. Bloody. Beauty. We did it (well so did a lot of other amazing people who helped us but you know what I mean).

We might have experienced our miracle. Finally.

I was over the moon. We were over the moon.

I went on that movie date with my friend and gosh it was tough not telling her. I was so happy not just that I was pregnant but that I wasn’t getting my period – I’m not kidding. You don’t even know. My shark weeks had been ROUGH.

Two days later, I had a phone call after my blood test.

“Congratulations! You’re pregnant and your hormone levels look great.”

Oh, my heart. Of course I had an inkling already, but hearing it from somebody else was amazing. This was finally real.

Our IVF story: Part 4 – Transfer day (when they put the embryo in).

25 May 2017 (about two months after my egg retrieval)

I was so nervous on transfer day. I’d already been driving myself insane with the craziest thoughts leading up to it. We were to drop the Little Mister off at school and then make our way to the clinic (an hour’s drive from our home). We were going to be a bit early for our midday appointment so we tried to take our time. We weaved our way through Fremantle and found weird ways to stall without actually stopping in public (because I felt like the hottest emotional mess there ever was).

I was also trying to stay fresh ‘down there’ so I didn’t want to get sweaty walking heaps (hahaha). At one point during our drive up, I received a phone call from a nurse. She was letting us know that the embryo they’d thawed had ‘survived beautifully’ and they were ready for us when we arrived. I don’t know what it was but the words, ‘survived beautifully’ suddenly made it really real. That was a potential baby. HOLY SHIT. I hung up the phone and bawled. Mr Unprepared was quite startled!

I had already said that I was worried about this because I’d had too much time to get attached to my ‘babies’. No joke. I know it’s a bad idea. Kind of like naming your animals when you live on a farm. Well, except I wasn’t planning on eating them. OK now I’ve taken this to wrong town. Where was I? Oh yeah, I know it’s probably not smart and definitely not rational but I was already attached. After all this time, my potential completion of my family was right there in a lab and it was exciting and I already felt a maternal…something towards them.

I said to Mr Unprepared and my mum that this could end very very badly if this round of IVF didn’t take. I said I had no knowledge of what it’s like to miscarry but I wondered if maybe some of the feelings might be similar for me. That I’d feel the loss far more than if we had just conceived the ‘good old fashioned way’. I’d known too much about every step of the way.

When we got to the clinic, there were other couples waiting. I could very faintly hear whispers of them being there for the same reason as us. We were not the first people to go in. I watched people leave and come back. It was a very quick procedure. I saw one sharply dressed woman who appeared to be on her lunch break from work just take it in her stride! I tried to imagine being able to do that. Nope. Probably couldn’t do it.

When it was our turn, it was all very efficient too. I took off my pants, got on the reclining chair thingy and had my dignity taken away for the millionth time. My legs were up on stirrups, the chair was raised to eye level with the person responsible for putting in the embryo, a very very bright light was pointed at my hoo ha. A speculum was used to make access easy, so I was really feeling good about myself at that point. I think the key word for the feeling was ‘exposed’.

A phone call was made to the lab. There was a screen in the corner of the room where they showed the embryologist sucking up our embryo from a petri dish before running in for the transfer. I almost cried seeing our embryo. It was not just super cool that we could do that but emotional. Who can say they saw their baby before it was even a foetus?!

A really long catheter thingy was used to insert the embryo – it didn’t hurt or feel like much more than a pap smear. Then I was out of there thinking WTF just happened? Like did that really just happen? It was so weird to think the embryo was inside me!

It was such an emotional process and yet so clinical too. It was weirdly, by far, the easiest part of the whole IVF process.

It was really surreal to know it was inside of me. I felt like I was pregnant before I was pregnant (but knew very very well that I wasn’t yet – a very strange and confusing and anxiety ridden feeling). I really really hoped I would not have to experience the loss of it not implanting.

Now the waiting really had to begin.

To be continued…