Today's the day

8:30 am
I am working from home today, sitting on an hours long conference call. I am also waiting for a call from my doctor about how many of my embryos survived the thaw. I didn't think I would be so nervous, but I am. If all six embryos survive the thaw, we'll let them grow two days (to become blastocysts). Any casualties at the thaw and we implant day-three embryos today.

9:30
I got the call, and three made it, so I am going in today. I'm disappointed, and not just because I will miss the last 90 minutes of my conference call. (Oddly, I am actually upset about that.) Strong embryos are more likely to survive the thaw. The fact that they didn't all make it doesn't necessarily mean that they aren't strong, but it isn't the positive sign I was hoping for.

Moving on. I am going in today to have two of the embryos implanted. In typical fashion, I have not been worried through this whole process, but now I am sweating. I contacted Chris and my acupuncture doc, both of whom will join me for this fun.

I'm staring at a huge glass of water. I am supposed to drink 20 ounces of water so that I have a full bladder for the procedure. Last time I drank a ton, and the doctor was a half hour late for the procedure. I was in tears, waiting and fearing that I would ruin my chances for a successful implantation if I lessened the pressure on my bladder. I had to pee three times while waiting for the doctor to arrive, but in the end everything went fine. At the time I was horrified, but in retrospect it is pretty funny that something so high tech could be compromised by something so basic. This time I am only drinking 8 ounces.

1:20

So apparently, with my tiny bladder even 8 ounces was too much. By the time I got to the office I was close to writhing. I peed twice before the procedure, but was not moved to cry. Or rather, I didn't cry until the physicians assistant pushed the ultrasound probe on my stomach. This made me cry, then laugh. The PA primly asked if I could stop laughing. No, I can't.

All went well. And by "all" I mean three embryos were implanted. Oy. As I mentioned previously, I fear the possibility of multiples, so the idea of three successful embryos is a bit daunting. As I do not have a moral problem with what they call selective reduction, if three make it we'll be taking action to make sure I don't carry three fetuses. This whole thing is an odds game. The odds of getting one successful embryo goes up when you implant two or more. Two of the embryos looked great, one was fine but not first class. Implanting them all gives us a good chance of getting at least one healthy embryo to take hold.

Of course, there is the possibility that an egg will split on its own. The doctor mentioned this possibility, quickly dismissing it with a breezy "but that RARELY happens!" Um, except it happened to me last time. Right, good to know. Still she thought 3 was the best way to go. So three it was.

After the implantation I waited the requisite 15 or 20 minutes, then got a visit from my fantastic acupuncture doc. Although it is her day off, this doctor made a "house"-call, joining us in the procedure room and hanging out in the waiting room on top of it. Who does these things any more? (If you live in Portland and want a recommendation, shoot me an email.)

Now I'm "resting quietly". I am resisting the urge to run a load of laundry, clean up the dining room table, squeeze in some gardening or do anything else that it calling to me to get done. Instead I think I will do some reading and maybe take a nap.