Reunited

Disclaimer: this is not my embryo. But you'd believe me if I told you it was, right? Because our cell fragmentation rates are so similar? Oh gosh, we get that all the time. :::blush:::

Transfer this morning was similar to what I expected, based on all of my fellow bloggers' many descriptions. I changed into back-to-front hospital gowns and grippy socks, had a conversation with my doctor about how many embryos to transfer (spoiler alert: just one), and then it was on to the big event. I put my feet in the stirrups while my RE put in a regular speculum as though I was about to have a pap smear, then a nurse used the ultrasound wand on the top of my belly to see my uterus. The only wrinkle was that my uterus was at a weird angle, so they kept trying to adjust the table and use a different catheter and finally my RE left the room for a moment while he tried to find one he liked. Yes, that's right: left the room! While I had a speculum shoved up in my personal region! And I had to pee! I overheard some snippets of conversation about someone maybe not having ordered or restocked the catheters correctly... dun dun dun. Anyway, he came back and put in the right catheter, then the embryologist did this elaborate thing with him where they verified back and forth that I was who I said I was and my embryo was who it said it was, and then he said "I'm ready to inject" and I felt the tiniest cramp in my uterus. On the ultrasound screen I could see a little bit of movement, and after a brief pause, he took the catheter out and the ultrasound nurse stopped pressing on my bladder. I chilled on the table for another 20 minutes reading the Golden Globes fashion issue of People magazine, and because I know you're wondering, I will put the matter to rest right now: in the final analysis I don't think I liked Angelina Jolie's dress. Too severe on such a thin figure.

We transferred one embryo, for several reasons:
1.) At my age, and without any reason to suspect other infertility factors, transferring more than one embryo is not likely to increase the likelihood of a successful pregnancy. All it does is increase my chances of multiple births.
2.) We believe in eSET. My unpleasant experience with egg retrieval aside, we are covered for four IVF cycles at this clinic, and we believe that the ethical thing to do is to attempt one birth at a time. Multiples, even twins, have higher rates of complications - which means more healthcare dollars spent by us and our insurance company overall. We have the luxury of making this choice because we do have four cycles covered, although we strongly believe this kind of coverage should not be a luxury.
3.) I just really don't want twins if I can avoid it. I'd rather hear that the cycle failed (and that we are moving forward with a FET) than be as sick as my cousin was when she was pregnant with her boys! She just could not stop throwing up, it was awful. If the embryo splits into identical twins then we'll deal with that when it happens, but I saw no reason to deliberately choose it.

The other reason I feel good about our decision is because this embryo got literally the highest grade the lab gives out. They said that it was always the leader in dividing, day after day, and it was hatching this morning right before transfer. My RE was very impressed by our embryos overall and said that we will have at least three to freeze, though we won't know for sure until tomorrow. So far only one has arrested, so ten are still technically candidates, although a few are going so slowly at this point that it's unlikely they'll make it. Three frozen embryos would be a gift; we went into this knowing that we could have none in the freezer so we're very grateful for whatever we can get.

One final, memorable thing about transfer day: so as I was lying on the table reading People, one of the nurses gave me a printed picture of our embryo. I thanked her and then a few minutes later, when I was finally released to go use the ladies' room, I realized had nowhere to put it. I mean, think about it - no pockets in my hospital gown, no purse, no friendly little shelf in their tiny bathroom holding extra toilet paper, no nothing. I settled for sort of perching it behind the sink faucet and handles, but then when I went to wash my hands, the picture FELL INTO THE SINK!!! And the ink started to run, and I was watching the only picture of the only child I've ever had start to swirl down the drain, and I took it out immediately and tried to blot it with a paper towel but that just made it worse, so there was nothing to do but start laughing hysterically and fess up to my idiocy. I walked out and showed the nurse my sad, wet, grayish piece of photographic paper and she laughed too and printed me another one. I have to say that I hope it wasn't a bad omen, but I also kind of want to tell the kid this story someday to illustrate what a spaz his or her mother was. I promise to treat the actual embryo much better than the picture!