Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Transfer Day

Tuesday, 10-13-09 (Day 28)

Dexamethasone (.75mg, oral pill): Because of nerves and swollen girl parts my appetite isn't what it used to be, so this little guy is back to it's original job of simply prepping my body to accept-and not reject-the new life that will soon be inside me.

Ciprofloxacin (500mg, oral pill): These are still ridiculously big.

Dostinex (.5mg, oral pill): Tonight I took the last of my little estrogen dropping pills, and I'll remain grateful for their ability to keep my bloating and swelling in check. I wasn't in nearly as much pain as I was last time, and I'm just about back down to my normal pooch.

PIO (1ml, IM injection): I'm pretty sure having to ice an entire side of my cheek hurts worse than these shots, because I'm trying so hard to numb the area that I end up with freezer burn.

And my husband is disgusted that I don't sanitize the ice pack afterward.

Egg Transfer: Completely uncharacteristic of early October weather in California, a perfect storm was raging today. I woke up to dark, clouded sky's pouring down the heavy rain, and blustery wind raging through and destroying anything in it's path.

It was beautiful.

I'm not a huge fan of the rain; mostly because it messes up hair and clothes and makes driving difficult, but I've always loved the first real storm of the year. There's nothing more cozy then listening to the rain bounce off the windows while your snuggled up and warm, especially right after a dry, hot summer. So when I woke up this morning and saw the gloomy weather, I couldn't think of a better day to do an egg transfer.

Every minute that drew closer to my appointment time without a phone call telling me not to come was a good thing, because that meant I must still have some little embryos growing. My heart was still beating faster than it should, but I took my time getting ready and calmed myself with prayer and my iPod playing inspirational songs. I wanted to enjoy every moment of this day and try my best to remain positive, all while trying to look good for the first introduction to my embryos.

As our in-laws drove us through the storm and partially flooded streets of Sacramento, I started to get anxious. Not only because it was about 15 minutes until our appointment time and we were late because of the traffic caused by broken tree limbs setting in the middle of the freeway and partially flooded streets, but because my phone was ringing.

And it was the doctors office.

My heart skipped a beat or too, and I felt light headed. As I answered the phone, I prayed they weren't calling to let me know that they just checked on my precious pumpkins and found them all arrested, canceling today's transfer and our last shot at our own biological family. We were so close, and I just couldn't imagine it all ending now.

But despite my constant lack of faith, God continued to bless. The nurse had no information on the amount of embryos remaining or the status of their stages, but she did let us know that the embryologist just checked on them and the transfer was still on; and she was just calling to make sure we were safe in the storm.

And I could finally breath again.

Since we got the the office about 20 minutes late with a more than full bladder, they allowed me to release it and then start drinking again. There was only one other patient doing a transfer that day and she had arrived early, so they simply switched our appointments. And as I sat there drinking water to painfully overstuffed my bladder for the second time that day, all I could think about were my tiny little pumpkins and how many of them had survived.

Shortly after, we were called back to set in doctor Greene's office and told he would be with us in just a minute. We were both nervous as we waited for him to come in, having no idea what to expect. The room was silent as we sat perfectly still, contemplating the possibilities and scenarios of what we were about to jump into.

After the longest 30 seconds of my life, Dr. Greene entered the room and sat down in the chair across from us. He opened up his folder, and started pulling out pictures of our single grade 3 blast and our two grade 2 expanded blasts, all while explaining to us that the other three were still being watched closely for the possibility of reaching the blast stage and freezing.

I was shocked.

All six of our pumpkins were still alive and well, and half of them were blasts, with a third of them reaching the expanded blast stage. That is pretty amazing, given the statistics; and I could pretty much hear God in my head saying Oh ye of little faith, I told you so!

Or maybe it was the Dr. I was hearing, because he was shaking his finger at me and telling me I shouldn't be surprised. I had sent him a few e-mails to which he responded by telling me not to worry because everything was progressing well. He let me know that if there was cause for concern, he would have been truthful with me, but he insisted I relax and remain positive.

But I never listen, and now I was getting lectured for it over a picture of my beautiful blasts.

We spent a few minutes going over the details with the doctor and deciding our next steps. He gave us his recommendation of how many and which ones to transfer, and then left the room to allow my husband and I to make the final decision. We disputed for a few moments, contemplating the possibilities of our situation with open hearts and minds, and after another question or two my husband reached the decision that we were both most comfortable with. The doctor then informed the embryologist of our choice, and I was given a small yellow pill and whisked away into the transfer room.

I was told to remove my clothing from the waist down and set on the table. As I started to undress and my husband took his seat to the right of the bed, I tried to take a mental picture of the room and my surroundings, because I never wanted to forget any of this. And then I started to worry, realized how fast things were moving, wondering if the freshly taken Valium would kick in on time.

As I finished undressing and sat on the table, my husband peeked his head out to let them know we were ready. But as the team came in the room and took their places, they let me know that I was sitting on the wrong end of the table.

And I was still wearing my panties.

So after a quick and embarrassing switch up that I wished I could blame on the Valium (but couldn't because I'd only taken it five minutes prior), we were in position and ready to begin. I warned the nurse I may pee on her because my bladder was so incredibly full, but she ignored me and pressed hard on my pooch with the sonogram wand, trying to find my jelly bean shaped uterus, and the doctor assumed his usual southern position and and let me know that the nurse must like me, because she warmed up his speculum.

She must have liked me a lot, because it felt like a curling iron was being slid inside of me.

I knew the Valium hadn't kicked in yet because I could feel everything and I certainly wasn't relaxed. First I was flushed out with a cleaning liquid to remove all cervical mucous, and then a small catheter was inserted into my uterus, just like in an IUI, only this time I was able to watch the entire process on the computer screen. As soon as everything was in place, the embryologist was called in to finish up the process, bringing in his very own tiny catheter and placing it inside the larger one. We all watched as a tiny spark showed up on the screen where new life was placed inside of my womb for the very first time ever.

After the procedure, my bladder was drained using a small catheter. Let me tell you, there is nothing more embarrassing than an entire room listening to you pee for more than 5 minutes, while your feet are still up in stirrups and an awkward silence fills the room.

Oh, but it felt so much better.

For the final step of the process, I was left lying somewhat upside down as a precautionary. The doctor said that it wasn't necessary, but it just gives everything a chance to settle in and relax. He turned on some soothing music and my husband and I were left in the dim room for about an hour, hoping, praying, and of course texting.

And then it was over. I was given lab slips for my HCG betas, instructions to avoid strenuous exercise and lifting more than 10 pounds, and the assurance that as of right now, I'm pregnant. Bed rest wasn't necessary, but taking it easy was, so we headed to lunch and then back to my in-laws. I felt giddy the entire time, knowing that at least for the moment, there was life inside of me.

I swore that if we ever made it this far, I wouldn't be able to handle the wait, wondering if the Lord chose to bless us with a pregnancy. But to be quite honest, I've never felt more peaceful. The majority of the difficult waiting is over; the eggs have been grown and retrieved, they have lived and thrived, and God has allowed the doctor to place life inside of me. A mixture of my husband and myself is setting inside of me at this very moment, and I realize we've done all we can possibly do. We are secure in our decision of the amount transferred, and the rest is up to our Heavenly Father, there is nothing more we can do.

God has been with us and this process every step of the way, even during the times when I spent more energy worrying that trusting and believing in Him and His abilities. Our family, friends, and even some whom we've never met before have poured out their hearts and prayed for us and our precious pumpkins, and I know that God heard every single one of those prayers.

And He'll continue to hear the prayers as we wait to see what will come of this cycle, praising Him and hoping for a positive outcome.

Literally.

"Hope is like a bird that senses the dawn and carefully starts to sing while it is still dark."
-Anonymous

24 comments:

Lisa said...

So glad your transfer went well!! Now snuggle in little embie(s) (since you didnt say how many you transferred)

I am praying for you and I know this is YOUR time!!!

Hillary said...

Wonderful news, Tab! So happy for you and praising God for the life that is inside of you right now!

Two random things from your post: 1. My office heats up the speculum, too, but it's worse than the cold one! Your description of the curling iron was perfect! 2. I had to laugh out loud at the thought of peeing for 5 minutes in front of a room full of people.... :) It will be worth it!

WantWait&Pray said...

This post warmed my heart......I agree with Lisa. This is YOUR time....can't wait to see that bfp girl. I am so excited! Praise God!

Jennifer said...

I'm with everyone else...I think this is your time too :-) I know you did't say how many you transferred, so I will respect your privacy, but I think you're handling this situation incredibly well. Like you said, for the moment, there is life inside of you. Relax and enjoy. We'll all be praying.

Michele said...

I got chills reading your post, because I just feel like this is it for you! Crossing my fingers for you!!!!!!!

Lindsey Dueck said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Waiting said...

So glad to hear everything went well. I pray that God will fill you with peace! And that that babies or babies will snuggle in tight for a good 9 months!!

BB said...

So glad everything went well! Lots of sticky vibes your way! {HUGS}

BNHMAMA said...

CONGRATS! You and your babies are all in my prayers!!!

Robin said...

Oh girl. I just cried reading this. Well, maybe not about the hot curling iron and the peeing in front of people. Enjoy the next days! A little piece of you and a little piece of Will are with you now and it is such a blessing! We are praying for you and your little one(s)!!!

Jenny said...

Your posts always seem to bring tears to my eyes. I'm so happy for you that you've made it this far! Take care of yourself.

Meagan said...

I'm so glad to hear things went well. My prayers are still with you and your pumpkins!!

Suzanne said...

I'm so happy that your transfer went so well! I'm praying for a BFP for you!

Anna said...

Yay!!!!!!! I'm so excited for you and can't wait for an update!!

Mrs. Hammer said...

Yeah I'm so glad you made it to transfer. Wonderful news about your embies. I'll be praying that you get your BFP!

JackieMac said...

Yay - I am so happy for you - thank you for explaining everything - I guess every RE is different - because I will not get a Valuim beforehand and they will not drain my bladder afterwards - I have to just lie there and wait. I am so hoping and praying this is it for you - I cannot wait for in two weeks when you are posting that you are pregnant.

t.bird said...

i'm stoked you had such an awesome transfer- i pray, pray, PRAY that there is a nice high beta in 2 weeks time :)

Stephanie said...

Oh girl, I am so happy for you. You have been so open and honest about the ups and downs! Now I am ready to follow you the next 9 months on a major up! Many prayers to you and hubby that everything goes as planned. Sounds like it went just fine! Now rest up girl! Life may be changing BIG in these next few months!! :)

Tim and Heather said...

wow Tabitha! What an incredible tale. It made me get goosebumps to think you're already pregnant! I can't wait to hear about your first betas!! I keep checking in on you... we're praying for good news! Stay POSITIVE! (sorry, couldn't resist!)

*******LOTS of baby dust!*******

Hoping for our own Peanut said...

Yayyyyy for there being embryo(s) in your uterus for the first time! What an amazing feeling..!

Cant wait for beta day or at least positive pee sticks. :)

Simple said...

Congrats -- stick embies stick!!! Sending lots of positive thoughts & vibes. :)

The Wilson's said...

What an awesome post! I am praying for you and your little embie(s)!!!

Debbie said...

That is so awesome Tab...what an amazing story and so wonderful to have it written down...the journey and everything that you are going through. You truly are very strong and you and Willie are in our constant prayers :)

Stuart and Sarah Creamer said...

Thinking of you and your precious embies!!!