Wounded

Our dog died yesterday and D got her period this morning. This has been an awful week. We're going to take a break from the baby making process and lick our wounds for a while.

Two Shooting Stars

On April 13, D and I went to CRM for the scheduled retrieval. While D, loopy from the Twilight anesthesia, was wheeled into the operating room, I was asked to sit in a tiny waiting room where I could watch the entire procedure on a small television monitor. I watched as a needle-like instrument punctured D's bloated follicles, which look like big black balloons on an otherwise white and grayish image of her uterus and ovaries, and deflated them one by one. All of the follicles were drained in about ten minutes and afterwards Dr. Devane poked his head into the waiting room and said, "They've already found six, but there might be more." I was able to spend the next twenty minutes in a tiny curtained room with D while she recovered. She was very loopy, but seemed to enjoy the drugs, remarking that it felt like drinking a couple Pina Coladas while laying in a hammock in the sun. Talking to her was like talking to someone with short term memory loss -- I'd ask her if she remembered me telling her what I had just told her, and she'd smile and say no. Finally, the drugs wore off, and Dr. Devane came in to tell us that the total count of eggs was eleven. Eleven? How could there be eleven when there were only three or maybe five mature ones two days before? The next day, we received a call from a nurse at the Center with "the fert count," which in laymen speak is the number of eggs that fertilized. We were told that eleven of the eleven eggs fertilized -- half through the normal method and half through ICSI (where one sperm is selected and injected into the egg). D and I were dumbstruck. Eleven out of eleven? The transfer was scheduled for this morning (Saturday, April 16). Dr. Jaffe gave us pictures of the embryos -- grade 1, which is the best, and grade 2, which is almost as good, and explained that three others looked like they were going to keep growing to blastocycts. If the three grade 2's continue to grow and divide normally until Monday, then they will be frozen for future use. During the transfer, D didn't get any Pina Coladas. Instead, she was told to take one valium right before the procedure (for cramping afterwards), and I was off to the waiting room again. This time, on the monitor's hazy image, I was able to make out two bright, shining lights (like little stars) being set free into D's womb. Two shooting stars and I made a wish. Now, D is on bed rest and we're both going just a little crazy watching movies from the couch. Staying still can be pretty exhausting.

Cancelled Classes and Grandma's Birthday

We've been told that there are three mature follicles on D's right ovary and possibly two (they are a little on the small side being 15 mm. so the doctors are hoping that by the time of retrieval they will have matured enough to produce a viable egg) on D's left ovary. We were instructed to give D the Ovidrel injection (which induces ovulation) tonight and come in for a pre-op appointment tomorrow afternoon, at which time they will explain the retrieval procedure. The retrieval is scheduled for Wednesday morning (34 - 36 hours after Ovidrel). My students were exceptionally happy to hear that I'm canceling my classes that normally meet before noon on Wednesday -- To be honest, I was a little offended by their reaction but that didn't stop me from being blissfully happy about the potential that we'll be expecting in a few weeks. The transfer will be three days after Wednesday, which makes it April 16. April 16, coincidentally is my grandmother's Birthday. We're both hopeful that the date is a good omen.

One Year Anniversary

So, what's this hoopla I hear about uterus being a dirty word that can't be spoken in Congress? These guys don't get out much, do they?

Anyway, I haven't posted in quite some time because we've been working toward getting into the PURSUE study that I mentioned in an earlier post. After two rounds of antibiotics to clear up a mysterious bout of endometritus, a trillion blood tests, and a tsunami of stress, D has finally been randomized. And yes, we both feel very random after all of this. : ) We started the study regimen on Sunday. She had blood work and an ultrasound (both of which are now daily occurrences)followed by two injections -- one that was the study drug (or placebo) and the other that was 300 mg. of Follistem (or placebo). We were given a journal in which we have to record the date and time of every injection, as well as instructions on what is to be done each day. For the first five days, D gave herself a 300 mg. Follistem injection (or placebo) in her stomach. Follistem stimulates the growth of follicles. On the fifth day, she started Ganirelex (which prevents ovulation), and that shot was given in her thigh; this will allow the smaller follicles to grow to maturity (hopefully) while preventing the larger follicles from releasing their eggs. Today was day six of our stimulation cycle. D administered the Follistem injection and the Ganirelex injection today and will continue with both for another two days. She had three large follicles in her right ovary (16 mm was the largest) and a few smaller ones on the left ovary (12 mm and smaller). After day 8, we'll be instructed when to induce ovulation with Ovidrel. Three days later, the retrieval will occur, and the transfer will take place three days after that. Two blasts will be transferred. And then we wait eighteen days.

Looking at the calendar the other day, I realized that we're approaching the one year anniversary of the day that we started this process -- April 28th was our first appointment at CRM. Hopefully, one year is enough... We're both exhausted and D could be mistaken for a heroine addict or pin cushion with all the pricking. Not a good look for her. : )