After my two miracle frozen embies didn’t make it (sigh), I took a break over Christmas to regroup (read: drink all the wine and eat all the pies). Having regrouped successfully I was unfortunately somewhat fatter so I spent most of January munching on celery sticks and crying into bowls of vegetable soup.
My WTF appointment reunited me with Hero. I’m not sure what magic spell he cast on me but I came out of that WTF a paid up member of The Final Cycle: Grand Finale. This will be the 8th cycle I have started (2 cancelled, 4 fresh, 1 FET so far). I am hoping that it will be my 5th egg collection and I am not adding to my tally of cancellations but things ain’t going swimmingly so far. I’d say we are more treading water with a few sharks nipping at our toes and maybe one arm band has deflated.
I had a bit of a laugh at my first appointment as I entered to the squarks of One Direction. I don’t suppose anyone gets that joke apart from me (story of my life). Anyway, first scan looked alright. 4 follicles above 10mm and 4 below. Not bad considering my track record. Since then it has all gone how we say in England, tits up.
The second scan showed only 2 of the 4 above 10mm had grown (not much) and the other 2 had stayed the same. The other 4 were apparently too small for the sonographer to even waste her ink on recording.
I am also having the same issue I’ve had every single cycle in that my clinic only do sedations for egg collection and I need a general anaesthetic. The conversation with the nurse on Friday left me feeling pathetic for requiring additional help outside of their ‘standard’ protocol. She implied it was me being weak and that if only I could step out of my comfort zone and stop being a silly little princess everything would be much easier for everyone. Oh, and that the chances were I’d have no choice anyway because she probably won’t be able to sort it out, so really I should just man up and be normal like everyone else.
I haven’t felt so helpless in a long time. She even asked me why I needed the general and after I explained she sagely explained in her infinite wisdom that every cycle was different and this egg collection would probably be straight forward and totally fine. Based on thin air I think, who knows. So I cried. Urgh. Through everything I’ve never cried there, but this time I sobbed in the waiting room while 20 people stared at me out of the corners of their eyes.
I have another scan later on today. I wish I wasn’t going on my own. I hope I’m not told off like a 10 year old school girl again. The way things are going I will be lucky to have an egg collection to worry about at all so maybe I should focus on that little hurdle first.
I have even done acupressure on myself this weekend. Desperate times.