Well as DG mentioned, today’s trip to the clinic turned out to be a little more traumatic than I imagined. Possibly a little melodramatic for those who’ve been through lots of medical procedures but it was far from a barrel of laughs.
As I think I’ve already written, after perking up a little for the egg transfer on Saturday by that night I had slipped back to how I had been feeling previously. I was pretty short of breath all the time, unable to eat more than a few mouthfuls of food without feeling I was going to burst, very very uncomfy and felt I wasn’t weeing as much as before, but because I’d only been scanned that morning I assumed I’d just overdone it a little.
Monday morning I had told Mr R I would ring in to the clinic with my passport number which I’d missed off my green form. So I did, and happened to mention I was feeling crappy still. I got a call back an hour or so later from nice nurse saying Mr R had asked if I would come in Tuesday for a scan. As we’re over an hour from the clinic I think she guessed from the tone in my voice I didn’t much fancy taking the trip. Although I was sure it was going to be a bit of a wasted journey that would end in me being told things were moving along, but slowly, nice nurse insisted it was best to stay on the safe side and to come up.
We took T to nursery and arranged for our neighbour to pick him up if we got stuck in traffic but thought we would be back with a little time to spare. Packed E into the car and made our way again to the clinic.
As soon as Mr R felt my stomach, before he hadn’t even started the scan, he said yes we have fluid now. I wasn’t too worried, but as he moved the scanner around my stomach (yes thats right, no more dildocam!) he could see quite a bit of fluid had started to build up.
If I only lived a short distance from the clinic he said I could have been checked each day to see how things went on their own. But, as we are over an hour away and because I was so uncomfortable he suggested we do some drainage today to give me some instant relief that would hopefully slow the problem down while my body recovers and sorts itself out. He explained this did involve a needle, but that they would do it vaginally. Allegedly the tissues ‘down there’ don’t feel a needle the same way so it would feel more like pressure. Somewhere between a rough smear and getting a coil fitted in terms of discomfort. I agreed and thinking about it now must have temporarily forgot that my coil fitting was only so easy because it was only 8 weeks since I’d given birth so things were still slightly ‘open’.
To be honest if anyone in the future is reading this because they’ve come across it looking for info on having this procedure coming up you might be best not to read on. I got through it in one piece in the end and do feel better afterwards, but I don’t think knowing all the details would have helped me do anything other than be more worried before it started.
As we went through I realised that little E in her pushchair would not be able to come in with us. I almost volunteered that I would be ok on my own so dh could look after her, when one of the nurses offered to keep watch while we went in.
So, back in the little room that has witnessed so much this week, wearing another sexy blue paper gown. In goes dildocam and I’m told to look away whilst the needle is prepared as Mr R knows of my fears. However, he kept talking about the bloody thing whilst sorting it!
I’m then told “Here comes a little scratch”. My f**king arse was that a little scratch! (DG don’t read the following as I know you won’t like it) but at that point I actually cried out in pain. After that its very hard to describe how it felt, but lets say extreme discomfort for the next few moments while Mr R is telling me “See we’re ok now, now we just sit here for ten minutes draining out fluid”. Tears were rolling down my face but I didn’t dare move, I was bloody scared to be honest. After filling the first bottle or two (which I think were 50ml but I can’t remember right now) the discomfort has eased slightly to the point where I felt I could bear it so long as I didn’t speak, did lots of heavy breathing and dh stayed very close holding my hand. Each time he moved the needle though, or was pressing on my stomach to feel progress, I winced again.
I was told 20 bottles was about the maximum they could take in one go as your body doesn’t cope well. Younger healthy people cope better but old ladies have hearts attacks apparently (my listening skills were failing me a little during the procedure). At 20 Mr R said he would like to try for a few bottles more but I could tell him when I wanted to stop. I just about managed to say “20 bottles ago!”, but if it meant a better outcome I would stand a couple more. So, I think we made it to 23. So, I was told that the worst was over, that when the needle came out I would feel nothing but relief. They lied again! I cried out again and this time lay there absolutely sobbing. I’m sure the scene was very pretty, me in blue paper gown sobbing and shaking with dildocam still waggling in my nether regions! Dear me!
It was over though. Still scanning my abdomen you could see the fluid still there, in fact Mr R pointed out my fallopian tube floating about in it, but my stomach was already noticeably smaller. The fluid could return but at this point should be seeping in more slowly and all the while my body would be recovering from the hyper-stimulation anyway because I’m not pregnant.
I was left to be slowly raised over half an hour or so, and to not get up til I was totally ready in my own time. I’m not sure anyone wanted me fainting again! I immediately felt I could take a full lungful of air and at least had the feeling there was a little room for food.
Hopefully we are now over the worst and all energies can go towards stressing about that elusive test date!
Want to see photos of the two embryos currently nestling themselves into DG’s lining? Well here they are…
OK, the photos probably aren’t best quality as they were taken on my mobile but there they are!
To be honest after feeling much better yesterday morning and being told that officially by my measurements my ovaries only have a mild case of OHSS I got a little carried away, and instead of going straight home we walked for several hours round town. I ignored uncomfiness and was enjoying being outside. Big mistake! I’ve been suffering ever since, and hurt like hell last night. Today things aren’t much better, and I can even add heartburn to my list of symptoms! We’ll get there though…
Not enough energy to go into details about yesterday but it was lovely that Mr R was so pleased about how smoothly it all went, and how everything was looking good. June 1st here we come! (like DG will manage to wait that long!)
Well today in my head I definitely feel just as battered and bloated as the past two days. But, I have managed to spend more time on the sofa than in bed so there must be some improvement.
There is some way to go though as, for some reason, when I waddled to the kitchen, I caught site of a tape measure. And, for interest’s sake I measured my waistline. Pre stimming my waist measured 30-31 inches depending on how many pies I’d eaten that day. Right now it measures 37 inches! For comfort I have a stretchy dress on, and I easily look six months pregnant. Its ok though, its not like anyone can see me hiding on the sofa!
30 out of 36 eggs have fertilised!!
They must have chucked in some candlelight for good measure last night. Go eggies!
As for me, I have waddled downstairs once or twice but for the main part I’m still in bed. I am so sore😦 I managed to eat a little last night, but nothing yet today, just lots to drink. Its all absolutely worth it, but there’ll be no farming me out as an egg machine
– Updated to say, they intend to freeze 22 of the embryos, leaving 8 to go on developing. If we have spares from these, they too can be frozen. We’ve been told they have a better thawing rate if frozen early
greatly a little exaggerated.
I am alive! Just
We arrived at the clinic nice and early. Not necessarily a good thing as it gave me time to get worried, but it meant that once Mr DG had done his thing they were able to get the kids out of the way. By the time we were called in, the nerves had more than kicked in and I knew I was close to tears.
I removed my bottom layers and put on my sexy gown, then Mr R came in to go through everything and get me to sign my consent form I didn’t really hear much of what he said, I just wanted to get in there.
Once we did get into the room where it would all happen the tears started. Mr R promised to put me out as quick as he could, and he was pretty good to his word. The last thing i remember is crying though. Then there are a few blurry snapshots where i couldn’t really tell you what as going on but speaking to dh may well be moments where i was wincing a little. Next thing I know its all over but I have an oxygen mask on. Apparently after they got me into the wheelchair to take me back to recovery, I fainted and slid down. So, DH, Mr R and the nice nurse had to get me back in the wheelchair, back over to the bed, and then lift me into the bed. They’d taken my venflon out nice and quick because it upsets me.
Back in recovery I was a little spaced out and couldn’t face drinking water, let alone the tea and biscuits I was offered. I did eventually manage it though, and even made it to the loo with some assistance (maybe too much info, but they don’t let you leave before you do). I just wanted to get home to my bed.
The drive back took an age. Every bump and turn was so painful. I had to keep my eyes closed, as open for more than two minutes I just felt nauseous, I even had to ask DH to pull over at one point because I thought I was going to be sick. Once home, dh helped me up the stairs and I crawled into bed. I took two nurofen and slept for two hours. Since then I’ve perked up a little. I even just managed to eat a cheese sandwich, and am trying follow my strict diet of drink drink drink! to keep the dreaded OHSS at bay. I still feel like someone’s given me a kicking though. To be honest I didnt expect the pain after to be quite so bad, but then I guess most people don’t get as many eggs as me so the trauma must be slightly less.
Did I not mention the number of eggs retrieved? 36!! How cool is that!
After all this, right now, my little eggies and Mr DG’s sperm had better be getting jiggy with it. I hope the embryologists leave a bit of Barry White or something playing in the lab overnight to put them in the mood! Well, we’ll find out in the morning. Meanwhile, I’m lagging again, its taken a lot of effort to get an update together on here and now my pillow is calling. Night night everyone…
Well, two days ago I thought this morning might never come and now, all of a sudden, its here! I have to admit to being more than a little worried, but I guess like many things its best just not to think about it.
A jab free night last night was definitely nice. After 12 days in a row of them though I found myself worrying I had to have one really, that I’d just forgotten, and this morning they’re going to be really cross at me saying I had some vital jab to do.
Ah well, time to pack the clan together and put them in the car. Scratch that, apparently I have to sit here and watch dh eat his breakfast while I’m not allowed any! grrrrr I’ll just go and have my allowed small glass of water
Today’s update on numbers will come from DG I guess as most likely I’ll be upstairs snoozing. That part sounds quite nice. So time to place your bets on numbers, and wish me luck!