Wednesday, February 15, 2012

A comedy of errors

Retrieval Day!  Should be pretty straight forward.  We just get up, hubby prepares his "donation", drive to the clinic, take out some eggs and we're good to go!

Except...firstly, my husband picked up all necessary drugs from here on out at the pharmacy yesterday on Monday.  I didn't go with him as I was pretty dogged down at work, and he's been such a fabulous at-home pharmacist thus far.  He walks through everything, including telling me that I would need to take a vaginal suppository this morning, as well as some Valium.   Hmmm, neither was on the list previously given to me by the doctor's office, but okey-dokey.  Left both bottles by my nightstand so I'd be good to go.

Take the suppository about 6:30am (2-3 hours before our 9am appointment).  I'm then happily laying in bed watching TV with the lovely husband, when I ask him what the circled "T" on the prescription bottle meant.  "Transfer Day", he says cheerfully. is not transfer day, it is retrieval day.  #!@%^%!!^#!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Screw it, I mean SHIT!!!!   I frantically go online to figure out exactly what I took, and apparently it is some progesterone supplement.  It can be used to trigger a period.  DOUBLE SHIT!!! (There may have been some f-bombs dropped as well). 

I call my (not open yet) doctor's office, send multiple emails, and finally get a call back from the doctor telling me not to worry.  As far as screwups go, it was apparently an easy one to cure.  They basically would just need to scrub out my lady parts before the retrieval could actually occur.  Crisis averted!

We get to the clinic and get all set up.  I get all set up with my IV and really don't remember much until I'm back in recovery.  The husband and I are just chilling out waiting to be released, when the lab tech comes frantically looking for my husband.  Apparently, the semen sample we dropped off in the morning had ZERO sperm in it.  Per the tech, this occurs sometimes just due to the pressure associated with the day.  He first wants to try to get another sample there in the clinic, and if that doesn't work, they'd have to call in a urologist to try to extract some surgically.  Panic attack, breath, breath, further panic attack.

The husband is led to the "collection room" to do the deed again and comes out with a sheepish look on his face afterwards.  A few minute analysis does confirm that there are indeed sperm in this second sample, so we should be fine there.  My husband said the pressure of the "double" day, as well as the array of Playboy magazines in the room were a bit much.  He's not really the Playboy kind of guy, so he said he found himself flipping through and stopping at the articles before he could really force himself to "get to work".  I guess I should be happy about that :)

We're finally released at that point.  The doctor retrieved six eggs.   Not the best performance, but not the worst.  Based on my internet research (so it must be true), about 60% of females have 9 or more eggs retrieved (with 40% getting more than 12).  About 20% are in the 6-8 range.  Ultimately, it is the quality of the eggs that matters more.  A person could have multiple eggs, but they don't fertilize, don't mature, don't grow right, etc.  So ideally my little 6 eggs are of decent quality.

We'll know tomorrow how many fertilized.  As long as we can get 1-2 good embryos, we're set for embryo transfer on Monday afternoon.  Until then, it is couch time with the hubby for the rest of the day.  I'll certainly never turn down that.  Happy day after V-day to us!

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