Save the date

Just a brief note to say I have a hypothetical transfer date, this Saturday. More importantly, I have a real thaw date the day before.
As it happens, Friday is a sort of team building day at work. I can tell you, I really look forward to a meltdown in public.

I still haven't managed to scrape together the courage to tell my RE that I've made an appointment at the Bigger Clinic. I don't exactly expect a bad reaction, but still it's a hurdle.

The little cycle that wouldn't

So, here we are, trying to do a FET. Three times I've been to the RE for an U/S and bloodwork, over a span of 2 weeks, but we aren't any closer to a transfer date.
Something is going on in there, my lining is developing slowly, very slowly. Each ovary showed a lovely amount of small follicles, but none is taking the lead. My E2 levels refuse to rise.

It crossed my mind to ask my RE if I couldn't convert to an IVF, seeing all those follicles going to waste. Unfortunately, there's no point in asking. The clinic is closing for a week after Christmas, which would be about the time for a retrieval in such a scenario.

I shouldn't be surprised about the sluggish cycle. The exact same thing happened with the FET we tried straight after our first fresh cycle of this year. That time, I had to pull the plug because we were leaving on holiday. This time, there's still some time to wait and see, and take some estrogen pills.

Juggling the appointments with work keeps me well occupied, so much that I almost forget that I'm just expecting another thaw fail phone call at the end of this.

Speaking of failures, I've made an appointment with Bigger Clinic, to do just that. We have to wait until February, but that's still sooner than I expected. In any case I'm taking some time off from A.R.T. after this FET attempt. I'm sick of it and it is making me blue.

Fortunately, I've taken some time off around Christmas to spend lots and lots of time with Linnea. Sing songs, splash in puddles, make drawings, ... She's been asking us "what's that" all the time. Soon it'll be "why? why? why?".

S is for sigh

Four days and one christening later and I don't feel much better about our last IVF failure.

Thanks for all your kind words and support. I'm more than happy to let you guys hope for a miracle outcome for our upcoming FET.
Our thaw survival rate so far is 0 (granted, that's with a grand total of 3 embryos), which leaves me less than optimistic. To me, doing a FET is like airing the cupboards, or defrosting the freezer. A chore that must be done, but with little tangible results to show for the effort.

There's a fight going on between my mind and my emotions. My mind tells me to keep a level head. A regular fresh IVF cycle gives you a 1 in 3 chance, so we're still within normal parameters.
My emotions could care less about what the statistics say. I feel almost as panicked and bewildered as I did after our first failed IVF (total fertilization fiasco). My mind protests that the situation is entirely different, of course it is, but to little avail. I lie awake at night fretting over what to do next. Should I change clinic? How many more attempts should we do? Should I start talking about adoption with DH? Should I look into becoming a foster parent?

In reality, changing clinic is the only one of these options that I might actually explore in the near future. When we decide we're done, I want to know that I tried every available option. But in practice changing clinic will be a pain. I like my RE, and he's conveniently located.  I don't have reason to expect much improvement from another clinic. Is a tiny bit more peace of mind worth all the effort? Because honestly, is it any more comforting to fail in two clinics in stead of one?


All of this does reinforce how much of a miracle (of medical science) Linnea is. So much, that I'm at a loss for words to describe it.
She's a willful little two-year old, she has a lot of attention for detail and constantly surprises us with all the things she can say.
My decision to temporarily cut back from work and spend more time with her was the best I made.

Stark white

In brief: No good.

I slept uneasy last night. Twice I dreamed of bright second pink lines, once of a negative.

This morning I did a HPT. From the angle I was sitting, I first thought it turned positive. Alas, just a trick of the light. I swear the space where I was wishing a line would appear went whiter than the rest of the stick. That's how much of a failure this cycle is.

Blood results confirmed, I am not in the least bit pregnant. (I admit a clear negative result is better than an ambiguous negative result).

I'm very disappointed. I'm angry, I'm bitter, I'm sad, I'm at a loss. I'm filled with doubt.

No one can tell me if cycling again will work. Who knows, Linnea's cycle may have been a fluke, an enormously lucky anomaly.
I can't help but wonder if I'm doing something wrong. Or is there a new medical problem that we haven't picked up on? Was my lining too thin (I asked, it was thick).
The explanation is probably just bad luck. Simple. But bad luck is not fixable, it has to be endured.

Part of me wants to turn my back on ART in frustrated disgust. Then again, I know perfectly well that I'm not ready to throw in the towel.
The next step is to do a FET (well, to clear the freezer at least), hopefully straight away.

Now I feel a downpour of pregnancy announcements coming on in my bones. Whatever. There better be one from my SIL, who has been TTC for 3 years without any luck.

Halfway

In brief: Halfway the 2WW. No symptoms, as expected. Hope? Don't ask.

Retrieval and transfer seem like they happened ages ago. Testing day, November 12th, seems far off.
There are large parts of the day when I don't think about it. But whenever I'm not occupied, I wonder.

I'm not waiting for symptoms, I didn't have any the last times. All I can say is that I feel less bloated before and just after retrieval. But I guess that's normal.

Hope is still as tricky as ever. I'm wishing this cycle would work, but I'm not exactly hopeful that it actually will. Does that make sense?

I need to go out and buy some P-sticks, cheap ones. 15 euro (about 22 US dollars) for one (ONE!) brand-name P-stick is a bit steep, if you ask me.

My flu-like symptoms are gone, except for a nasty cough. Linnea caught the same symptoms over the weekend. She's been snotty and listless all week. She has just discovered the wonders of TV and now wants to do so all the time. I can't fool her by sticking in an age-appropriate DVD either, she insists that no, actually it's television she wants. I'm planning to record some of the better TV shows, in the hopes of keeping her away from the less appealing ones. Is two too young for Sesame Street?

Much better

In brief: 1 top quality embryo transferred. Exhale.


I slept fitfully last night and woke up early. The trip to the clinic - on my own - was a nervous one. I kept expecting the call to tell me there was no need for me to come in after all.
When it didn't come, I thought they might have forgotten to call me.

One step in the door, so to speak, I asked a kind nurse to check for me. What a relief when she told there would be a transfer!

The transfer procedure was uneventful, if a bit uncomfortable (me there early, them behind schedule makes for a longer time with full bladder) and slightly embarrassing (are lab assistants bound by medical secrecy, because my privates feel rather unprivate right now).

Of the three embryos, two were of top quality and 1 of not-good quality. 1 top quality embryo was transferred, the other is now in the freezer (hopefully with the ambition of being The One that Survives the Thaw). I called my RE yesterday to discuss transferring one or two. He advised us to stick with the plan, and decide based upon quality. The somewhat low maturity rate of this batch, nor my flu-like symptoms (with no fever to speak of) shouldn't make us change our mind, he felt. So, DH and I decided to stick to the plan.

I must say, 2 good embryos out of a total of 3 is astonishing to me. I hadn't dared hope. Then again, not daring to hope has been my motto in all things reproductive since 2005.

I just hope that I didn't promptly eject the defenseless little embryo in the coughing fit I had just ten minutes after transfer. I believe I read somewhere that that isn't possible, but then why do they make you lie down afterwards for half an hour when all you want is to go to the bathroom?

Now back to what I've been practicing so much, crossing my fingers and twiddlng my thumbs. Care to join me?

Meanwhile, thanks for all your kind words of support, I needed those.

A little low

I just got the phone call from the clinic, earlier than expected. Only 5 eggs were mature out of 11, which isn't fabulous. Of those 5, only 3 fertilized with ICSI.
3 out of 5 isn't bad, but 3 out of 11 isn't good either. I'm a little disappointed.

There's no obvious explanation for the low maturity rate. The lab was surprised because the eggs let go of the follicles easily during retrieval, which suggests maturity.

At least 3 isn't 0. We still have a chance. In the cycle that led to Linnea's birth, we only had 2 embryo's at this stage (out of 6 eggs retrieved in total).

Still, I can't help but seeing it as a bad sign. Fingers crossed we have something to transfer on Saturday. And if (big if, knock on wood, sprinkle salt, etc.) there is more than one left, perhaps we should rethink our decision on how many to transfer.

Now, I'm back off to bed, because the flu-like symptoms are still here.