I know you’re all on tenterhooks to hear how things went. Right? RIGHT??
*cough* sorry. Anyway. Moving along.
Jon did the trigger shot beautifully. I had to wake him up to do it, but we prepped it, got it into the needle (all the while asking each other “are you SURE that’s it? Is there more in there?” and did the shot with zero hesitation and honestly zero pain. I was proud of him. We’ve come so far since the passing out in the RE’s office days.
Sunday was the Egg Retrieval surgery. We got there for our 9am appointment, they took us back there, got me into a gown and booties and a hairnet. Then Jon came and sat with me, I got the antibiotic IV put in my arm and then…..I just kind of crumbled. I know, I know. I’m sick of hearing about my mental issues too, but the story has to be told as it really happened. I cried while the dude talked to me about anesthesia. I cried while the doctor talked to me about the retrieval itself. I was a disaster.
They finally walked me back into the operating room, I got on the table, I got oxygen, I kept crying. Before I was out, I could feel them really really roughly putting in the speculum and kept crying. And then I woke up back in the room with Jon, fell back asleep for a while. When I was finally feeling more awake, the doctor came and told me that they retrieved 19 eggs. Awesome.
Went home, slept for a while, went out for a dinner with my whole family that my mom had on our calendar for months. Nearly fell asleep at the table at my sister’s restaurant, but I was there!
Monday was a little worse. My stomach was distended, felt full and tender to the touch. I could barely stand up straight. It hurt to cough, laugh, move in bed, use my stomach muscles for anything. There were shooting pains. Oh, and I had people in my house replacing all of our windows and they started upstairs so I could go to bed. I felt awful. BUT, I got a call that 18 of our eggs fertilized.
When the nurse called, I thought she said eight and I said “hey, half isn’t too bad, right?” and she was like “um, no. EIGHTEEN. You have a small army growing.” So, that made me happy. Hopefully some will be good enough to freeze because if we have to go through the ER process again we will not be going through the ER process again..if you know what I mean.
Tuesday was even worse. The window people were back, I could barely move without hurting. Jon had to come home at 1pm with more Gatorade to let me go take a nap. Tuesday night we went to go vote. The drive there was torture. And when we got to our polling place, there were senior citizens walking in and out of the building going faster than me with hopefully less pain. We got home, I cried for an hour and went to bed. Before that, I told Jon that if we had a three day transfer and it was on Wednesday and I felt the same, I really didn’t think I could go through with it feeling this awful.
Luckily Wednesday I woke up and felt about 80%. I could move a little better, my stomach wasn’t hard and distended and I could walk. Annnnd as it so happened, I got a call that we were going to be a 5 day transfer anyway.
So, Friday (tomorrow!) at noon, we’ll head in for the transfer, which I am actually NOT worried about at all. After 5 IUIs I think I’ll be fine. Apparently we have to do it with a full bladder which doesn’t sound as fun, but I can deal with having to pee for a little while. After everything it seems like the least that we’ve gone through :p