Don’t get too excited by the word pregnant. The embryo transfer involved the doc putting those lovely embryos of mine back into me. There was still a long wait (9 days) before the pregnancy test, but after the embryo transfer it is pregnant until proven otherwise. I am to act and think pregnant.
The day of transfer was when my embryos were beautiful five day old blastocysts. The morning of I got a phone call telling me that we were good to go for transfer that morning, and to drink 32 ounces of water in the next 30 minutes. And then hold it. For an hour and a half. The full bladder was hands down the hardest part of transfer day. I have a tiny bladder. I tried telling my nurse that I have a tiny bladder and could not handle 32 ounces, but she insisted, and I complied.
After a 45 minute drive I arrived with my mom at the clinic, and my bladder was so full I could barely walk. When we got to the front desk I was quickly escorted back to a room to change into hospital gear, and begged the lady to let me empty my bladder just a tiny bit. Apparently she was not the authority on my bladder, and had to go get permission from someone else. The wait was excruciating. I have never been so close to peeing my pants as an adult. Lady came back with a cup, marked clearly with a sharpie, and told me I could pee to the line. I never thought a half a cup of pee would be so wonderful. It was a huge relief (even though my bladder was still extremely full). Next step was checking that my bladder was full enough for the transfer via ultrasound. It was still too full. The nurse actually commented she was surprised I held it as long as I did when I arrived. I then got to empty another glorious half cup, and was laughed at by the nurses for being an over-achiever.
Once my bladder was under control I got to chat with my doctor. He recommended that we transfer one of the three embryos that were ready to go. His recommendation of one had multiple reasons. First being, I’m young. They generally recommend a single transfer for anyone under 30 (which I am). Second reason, a twin pregnancy is obviously higher risk, for both me and potential babies. Third reason, I stimulated very well, and a twin pregnancy with higher levels of pregnancy hormones increases the chances of Ovarian Hyper-stimulation Syndrome more so than a single pregnancy would.
So of course I transferred two.
Casey and I had a lot of talks about transferring one or two prior to transfer day. While two is obviously higher risk, there is also a much higher chance of pregnancy if two embryos are transferred. If my research and math are correct transferring two instead of one can increase the chances of a live birth (meaning at least one makes it to the end) by about 20%. That may not sound like a lot, but it is a significant difference when this much time, energy, and money is going into it. Even with two embryos transferred there’s only a 50% chance that I will end up with twins IF I’m pregnant. There are other factors as well, but the numbers were key.
The embryo transfer was in the surgery room, embryos are super sensitive to…everything. I wasn’t allowed to wear deodorant, perfume, or even use body wash with a strong scent. The least pleasant part was the constant pressure on my still full bladder by ultrasound. After verifying my name and birthday on my dish the doctor inserted a catheter through my cervix and deposited the embryos into my uterus. The whole thing took maybe 15 minutes, and was hardly more than uncomfortable. Then I cried. I cried when the doctor said we were done. I cried when my nurse told me good luck. I cried when I saw my mom when I went back to change. All in all, a lot of tears. It was the first time I knew I had life in me, which is hugely overwhelming in itself, but was also paired with a gigantic level of relief. I was done (not all the way, but it sure felt like it). I had made it through IVF. Also, hormones. Lots and lots of hormones with the medications they had me on.
The most beautiful little blobs I’ve ever seen, and an air bubble.
Next Step? Waiting the longest nine days of my life for a pregnancy test.