If you are on Twitter you will have already witnessed my egg retrieval nervous breakdown. If you aren’t, I can tell you now that it did not go to plan.
It started off with 3 bad omens:
1. I picked up a magazine because it had a Henry Cavill headline on the cover. What I had forgotten was that I lost my glasses last month (who does that? Who does that and doesn’t even replace them?) It wasn’t Henry Cavill, it was Civil War and National Geographic magazine. I pretended to read it anyway instead of looking like a div and putting it back.
2. I had a dream that I needed to do a pregnancy test before egg collection. Despite numerous sources telling me that this was actually mental, I had wee performance anxiety. This meant that I bypassed my usual toilet in case I was required to perform a wee on demand in the clinic. I didn’t need to. I weed in a totally alien toilet I have never even seen before.
3. At our clinic you are supposed to do your sperm sample at home, then I don’t know, stuff it down your knickers or under your armpit or something to keep it warm and bring it in. The men coming in this morning ignored this request, and I had to watch them go into the toilet to do their business. I don’t like being that close to strangers wanking.
As an aside, I felt bad for the poor guys coming in. They fall into two camps. The fake, over-confident, jolly, too-loud, “this is nothing, I’m totally cool with this!” camp, and the bag-over-the-head-don’t-look-at-me-or-I-will-die camp. Pretty sure they both feel the same level of awkward.
Anyways, egg collection went horribly wrong. I went in with 5 good follicles and 5 smaller ones. I woke up to two very pessimistic doctors telling me to prepare myself for the worst. One of them told me that all I could do now was cross my fingers. Thanks for that.
After spending the morning crying on my own in the recovery ward, I’ve calmed down a bit. I’m finding it hard to remember what happened since the anaesthetic has muddled my thoughts, but I think the problem came when the doctor accidentally pierced my biggest endometrioma. This meant that they couldn’t see what they were doing when they were draining the follicles, and since all of my follicles were on that side they were not hopeful for a good egg harvest. I guess it’s hard enough to flush out follicles, nevermind doing it blind.
Considering the doctors thought I’d get no eggs after the egg collection from hell, the good news is that we got two. Two is more than one and definitely better than none so I am not completely distraught. I’m trying not to think that I had 10 follicles going in, 5 of which were big enough on Wednesday and 2 others that were catching up. Two is better than none. I hope they weren’t damaged from the procedure since it seems to have been such a botched job.
I’m upset that I started IVF treatment at the beginning of February, and the entire culmination of all that time, all of those appointments, all of those drugs, all of the heartache and stress is two eggs. I know that I ovulate every month… I already have one egg every month. All of that extra grief for one more egg? I’m dubious about the treatment I’ve had. I don’t think they gave me enough stimulant drugs and I don’t think they gave them enough time to allow the smaller follicles to catch up. I guess in hindsight none of that would have mattered since they couldn’t see what they were doing anyway.
If any fertilise tonight, my transfer will be on Sunday. I just want this week to be over.