Monday 19 November 2012

Bye-bye Ichabod

I've had a rollercoaster last few days. After my transfer I tested out the Ovidrel trigger, and soon enough was getting tests that were almost negative. Then, late on Saturday morning (10 DPO or 5dp5dt) after we got home from doing the shopping, I went and did another test because there had still been an incredibly faint line on the one I'd done at 3:30am that morning. I was very surprised and pleased when a line came up again; it was still incredibly faint but definitely darker than the early morning test. Because I'm obsessed, I did another two tests that day, one at 3:30pm and one at 8:20pm. The line wasn't getting darker, but was about the same. I couldn't wait to test again Sunday morning.

Sunday I was up at 5:30am to POAS yet again, and my heart was thumping and my hands started shaking when I could see a line straight away, still very very faint, but I was sure it was darker than the one I'd gotten at 11:30am the day before. I shared a photo of it on my facebook support group; it was barely visible in the picture, but definitely there, and the consensus was that it looked like a very early BFP. I was so excited. It was amazing being able to say to Alan, "I think I'm pregnant" and actually mean it for the first time ever.

However, when I finally compared the two tests (11:30am 10 DPO, and 5:30am 11 DPO) in daylight later on, they didn't look much different, and I started getting concerned that it was either a chemical pregnancy, or possibly even ectopic, as a couple of days before I'd been woken in the middle of the night by a very sharp pain near my right ovary. My fears inflated when I tested again at 9:30am, four hours after the morning test, and it was almost a complete negative. I decided to try and forget about it until the next morning, and I kept patting my belly and thinking encouraging thoughts hoping Ichabod would get the message.

But it wasn't to be. Yesterday morning I tested yet again; shaking hands and pounding heart, from nerves this time instead of excitement. Willing that line to be darker. Nope, it was lighter. Poor Ichabod was just not strong enough to turn into a baby. My test this morning was a ghost line, even lighter still. I have one test left so will use it tomorrow morning, purely for closure than anything else.

Now comes my least favourite part of the cycle; having to continue taking the progesterone right up until my blood test, even though I know there is no point at all. I probably could stop taking it actually, because my blood request form only asks them to test for hcg, not progesterone, so the clinic will be none the wiser. It's just so depressing continuing the meds when you're not pregnant.

Anyway, I'm completely crushed, for three main reasons:

- Having to wait three or so months before we can afford to do another cycle, so basically a whole quarter to a third of a year where I can't do anything about TTC.

- Having to actually spend another huge amount of money on another cycle. We will have to use Alan's Christmas bonus, which we were hoping to use for a holiday or the myriad of other things that we need/want.

- Not knowing why we had such a bad result from a donor sperm cycle, and worrying that the exact some thing will happen again next time. The only logical conclusion is that my eggs are actually crap, because low fertilisation rates are usually caused by the egg. Unfortunately there's no way to test for egg quality, and there's not much I can do about it either, apart from taking supplements like CoQ10 and royal jelly, and hoping for the best.

I hate this uncertainty. I keep having visions of us having to look for an egg donor too, which is excessively difficult at the best of times, unless you have a very charitable sister or something. I know that I'm leaping wayyy ahead of myself here, but really, what do you expect? Three ICSI cycles and NOTHING to show for it, except for a chemical pregnancy that ended so early it won't even show up on my blood test on Friday.

The whole concept of a baby (or even a pregnancy) is feeling so very out of reach right now. We want two kids as well, and it's this massive struggle just to get one!!

Yesterday I wallowed in grief all day and did nothing, but today I picked myself back up out of my metaphorical pile of filth, and did all the housework and washing that I should have done yesterday (still got more washing, ironing, and bin emptying to do). Tonight I'm going out for dinner with a handful of the ladies from my facebook group, so it will be nice to finally meet them in person, plus do something social for the first time in months. I have plans to get back into running now, as well as learning to use my sewing machine (thanks again cous for the goodies you sent! xx). I will start taking supplements for improving egg quality, as they supposedly take about three or so months to take effect anyway, and hopefully it'll help next cycle. In the first week of December I've got six Living End gigs to look forward to, and now I won't have to worry that I won't be well enough, or whether it's bad for the baby. I could perhaps think about doing pole dancing classes too, and Alan and I have also talked about trying to find an archery club, as that is something that interests us both.

The next three or so months will be all about trying to relax and focus on other things, which will be a big challenge for me. But in the long run it will the best thing for Alan and I, and for my physical and emotional wellbeing.

And maybe that will be what gives us success next time.

Monday 12 November 2012

Meet Ichabod!

Both of my embryos miraculously continued to grow right up until transfer day yesterday. On Saturday (Day 3), they were 5 cell and 8 cell, the 8 cell one being a perfect number. However on Sunday when they were meant to be 16+ cells and compacting into a morula, they were only 8 cell and 12 cell and just starting to show signs of compaction. The embryologist who was calling me daily with updates told me that she would have liked them to have more cells by now, but she was hopeful for the 12 cell one. She said they would call me on Monday morning to confirm whether my transfer was going ahead in the afternoon. I was still pretty amazed that they had survived til Day 4, after such crappy fertilsation. But there you go.

I'd been living with constant anxiety and nerves since Thursday morning, but then on Monday morning it was finally alleviated; my 12 cell has progressed to a morula overnight, and my transfer would be going ahead. Naturally I still has concerns that I would arrive in the afternoon only to be told, "Sorry, it's done nothing since this morning so no transfer!". Fortunately that wasn't the case. When the embryologist called Alan and I into a private meeting room, she talked us through everything that had happened in the lab, and gave me a picture of my morula taken at 12:19pm that afternoon. I was a little bit disappointed that it was nowhere near showing signs of becoming a blastocyst yet, as it really should have been a blastocyst by yesterday anyway. But she reassured me that they still get pregnancies with Day 5 morulae, that my chances are obviously lower than they would be with a blasty, but still definitely a chance.

Glenn, my FS, was much more cocky about it, saying bold things like, "That'll be a blastocyst later today," and implying that I'll be preggers in two weeks. I love his confident attitude; even though I know a BFP is less than likely, it's nice that he didn't really say anything negative about the cycle, aside from "it would have been nice to get more eggs/more fertilsation". He was very up-front with Alan; when Alan asked if there was anything he could do to improve his condition, Glenn said a straight-up, "nope". He said that in the biopsy they got heaps of tubules from his tissue sample, and absolutely no sperm could be found at all. Alan thinks that Glenn is possibly not the best person to talk to, since his goal is for us to have a kid (which is fair enough), so Alan's still wondering if he should go and see a urologist, maybe even one who's keen to try more experimental/cutting-edge treatments. We'll just have to see what happens there.

So I went and had my transfer, during which Glenn and the FN were talking about the people that they spy on out the window who do things they shouldn't be doing while on cigarette breaks and such, because they don't think anyone can see them. I had to force myself to stop laughing because I was making the ultrasound probe jiggle around on my tummy. We watched our little lazy-bones morula "Ichabod" being squirted into my uterus, and then they packed up, Glenn making some crack about perhaps he should remove the speculum before I leave. The nurse gave me all the usual post-transfer instructions, then we went and paid for everything, including both embryo glue and assisted hatching that were both used on Ichabod to help him/her along a bit.

While we drove home I propped my feet up on the dashboard; not that it would do anything at all, but it made me feel better! At home I updated all my friends by text and in my forums, and shared the photo of Ichabod because I was so delighted to actually have a proper embryo transfer, even if it wasn't the blasty I'd always dreamed of. Alan took me out to Grill'd for dinner where we had yummy burgers and their amazing herb-sprinkled chips, then I spent the evening on the computer until turning in early at 8:30 (but me being me, of course I didn't fall asleep til 10!).

Now I'm waiting around for our rent inspection, which I cleaned for like a crazy woman yesterday before I went to the clinic. Then after that I'm going to relax and be a couch princess for a few days, and hopefully little Ichabod is in there, blastocysting away and snuggling in for the next nine months... well, one can only hope!

Here's his/her photo, which, if we get our miracle, will be the first pic in the baby album:

Friday 9 November 2012

Triple blow... but a glimmer of hope

Okay, I've been putting this post off. Mainly because I've been too stressed and upset to bother writing anything yet, but also because I wanted a better picture of what was going on before I did. However, once again I realised that I really should be documenting every little thing that happens to me on this hellish ride, otherwise there's not much point to this blog.

So, where do I start? We went in for our procedures two days ago. Firstly, Alan gave a sample of ejaculate, and soon after the lab scientist confirmed with him that there were no sperm found. No surprises there. He was then whisked off to the hospital across the road to be prepped for TESA/PESA. I had to sit for two and a half hours in the waiting room of the clinic before it was my turn. The first person I spoke to was the same scientist; she reiterated that there was nothing in the ejaculate, and she told me the latest from the TESA procedure: nothing in the first teste that they examined, and they were now checking the other. She confirmed with me that we were all good to go ahead with the donor sperm if they didn't find anything. I then spoke to a nurse, who talked me through what was going to be happening for the rest of the day. I got escorted to hospital admissions, and was seen to in the day procedure ward quite quickly, as obviously EPUs need to be done at a fairly precise time.

Nothing new to say about the EPU experience aside from the fact it was at a different hospital. Glenn (my FS) was playing Solitaire on his phone when I walked into the theatre for my procedure, and "Elevation" by U2 was playing on the stereo, hehehe. After I woke up, I was very anxious to get back to Alan, who by the time I finally did, had been discharged and had been waiting back at the clinic for me for two or three hours. Eventually we were called in to see the scientist, who confirmed that there was no sperm found at all, and that my eggs were going to be ICSI'd with our chosen donor sperm. Blow #1. Alan was understandably very sad, and when we got home was questioning whether we should perhaps be getting his condition thoroughly investigated by a urologist, to see if it's something that could be reversed, even if it took months or years of treatment. I don't hold out much hope, to be frank, but if he chooses to do this I will support him.

I had a minor disappointment myself in that we only got 8 eggs. It's not a bad number, by any means, but after the number of follicles I had I really was expecting a couple more. This was Blow #2, mostly because I'd convinced myself that I would get significantly better egg numbers with an antagonist cycle, but it obviously did not turn out to be the case.

Blow #3 came yesterday morning. I was anxiously awaiting my phone call from the lab where they would tell me how many of my eggs fertilised overnight. I was hoping for at least 4; that would have been 50% and there's nothing terribly wrong with that. I also "knew" that with donor sperm, which is meant to be better than average quality, we had a really good chance of getting a few zygotes/embryos for the first time ever. So it was with both nerves and confidence that I answered the phone. The scientist explained to me that of the 8 eggs, 5 were mature, and 2 had matured later in the lab, and that although the latter will not usually fertilise, they still ICSI'd all 7 with the donor sperm.

And two fertilised. Two. All I could utter was a deflated, "Oh." She said, "Yes, that was much less than we expected." Oh, really??? I held it together until Alan asked to speak to her, because he wanted to arrange a time to meet with Glenn to ask about investigating his infertility further. After that, all I could do was hide my face in my hands as my mind went nuts, wondering what could have possibly gone wrong. I was suddenly filled with doubts as to whether my eggs are as good quality as they should be for someone of my age and health. Otherwise how could this have happened? There is a chance that the donor sperm is not all it cracked up to be, but I just don't think that's very likely. I had a big ugly cry all over Alan, and spent the rest of the day trying (and mostly failing) to distract myself. Even though it's not standard procedure for the lab to call you with updates between the fert. results and the transfer (except sometimes on Day 4 if things aren't looking hopeful for the transfer), I had been told before discharge the previous afternoon that I could call them every day if I wanted. If I'd had four or more fertilise, I wouldn't have bothered, but for only two eggs, I resolved to do this.

So this morning after anxiously waiting till a reasonable time (9am), I nervously phoned the clinic and asked to speak to the lab. The receptionist asked me if I was after embyro updates, and then told me that the lab staff were busy doing procedures in the morning and wouldn't be able to answer, plus they don't check embryos till the afternoon. So she put me through to their answering machine, where I left my name and number and quite literally informed them "I was just wondering if my embryos actually survived through the night." Then I had a few hours more to anxiously wait.

They finally called me at around 1:30pm. The scientist I spoke to told me that today they were checking purely for cell division, and that I had one embryo at 2 cells, and one at 4 cells. I felt dizzy with relief. I asked her if they could please call me on Saturday and Sunday too (if either or both are still growing by then) as I wanted daily updates, which she said was fine.

Day 2 embryos are meant to be between 2 - 4 cells, so they are both bang on target. So that is one hurdle down... I have embryos in culture for the first time ever. Not zygotes, which are then stupidly and hurriedly transferred before we know what they're going to do. Actual, real embryos. Very very early ones, and they could arrest before tomorrow even. But there is a tiny glimmer of hope. I am now even more nervous though, because there is so much more to lose. If I'd have been told today that they hadn't divided, I would have been very sad, but resigned. But if I get told they've arrested tomorrow, or Sunday, or (please no!) Monday, the devestation I will feel will get exponentially worse each day that passes.

If I do end up having a blasty to transfer on Monday, I will feel like the luckiest person ever. At this stage I don't even care if it sticks, just the transfer will make the whole cycle feel worthwhile. And I am putting this in writing so that if I am lucky enough to get a transfer, but I don't fall pregnant, I can look back on this and remember how desperate I was to get that far, and to maybe "appreciate" the progress we have made this cycle a bit more. Fine in theory, of course!

However, regardless of what happens, I will still be asking Glenn on Monday as to whether he thinks my eggs might be crap. Because if so, I need to start taking supplements that could possibly help for future cycles, such as royal jelly and/or CoQ10.

Saturday 3 November 2012

Scan Update

I had my first scan on Friday morning. It was a very rushed affair as my FS was quite busy; I ended up having to wait about 45 mins to go in! There were 7 follies on the right and 4 on the left, so 11 again, just like last time. To be honest I was a little disappointed, I really thought that I would get a few more. FS was happy though, and said my lining was good too (I think the measurement on the screen was 7.6mm, but he didn't actually tell me what it was). Anyway, I have another scan tomorrow morning, and will trigger tomorrow night for EPU on Wednesday. Hopefully if I end up getting around 10 eggs again, more than 6 will be mature this time...

A fun little fact: according to my EPU date and an IVF due date calculator, if I am blessed enough to get pregnant this cycle, my due date would be 31st July.... Harry Potter's birthday! I'm taking that as a good sign, hehehe. ;)

If anything changes after tomorrow's scan I will update, but if not then my next update will be egg numbers after EPU. :)