The lovely embryologist called this morning with an update. One of the eggs collected had been immature, so the embryologist had performed ICSI on eight and six of them fertilized. That’s a 75% fertilization rate – above average – and the embryologist called this an EXCELLENT fertilization rate. BOOM! I am happy. H is happy. We are back in the game, baby!
Now, we just need these little chicks to keep developing into beautiful blastocysts. When I was little kid, I had a vivid imagination. I had some cool imaginary friends (in addition to my human similarly-aged friends, I should add) called Mingan and Mangan. My grandmother will recount endless stories of me (age 2) chatting away to these friends. At that young age, I (obviously) didn’t know that talking to Mingan and Mangan would be great training for my future self (age 38) when connecting with my little chicks in a petri dish. Currently, I’m whispering the following in a soft, motherly voice:
“Hello my six little chicks. You’re in the best possible place to develop into strong and healthy embryos and go on to be beautiful babies. You focus on dividing your cells at a normal rate and enjoy yourselves while you’re at the lovely lab. I’m ready to receive you when the time is right.”
I’ve been repeating this little pep talk a few times today and will continue repeating it. I believe in positive affirmations, and I’ve used them on and off during my fertility journey (and I’ll write more about that another day). They don’t work for everyone – and I do think it takes practice (whether or not you’ve had imaginary friends!) – but they work for me. They help me refocus and look forward, which has an extraordinary effect of calming me when I feel anxious. When I was pregnant I felt connected to my embryo because it was growing inside me. It’s hard to feel connected to your embryos when you’re doing IVF because sometimes I feel like I’m just going through the motions, going from appointment to appointment, from injection to injection… So, chatting to my embryos makes me feel connected to them. And, it reminds me of the end game: to chat to my [real life] baby.
Good night my six little chicks 🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣,
I’m sitting in the garden in the sunshine. I am loving this (atypical) British Summer. Despite being born in the very north of Sweden, close to the Arctic Circle, on a cold (-30 Celsius) January day, I am a summer child. I’m soaking up the rays and the vitamin D spray is firmly placed in a drawer (a very risky move when it comes to British Summer).
We got nine eggs this morning and although I was gunning for a dozen (read here), I am very happy with nine little beauties. WHOOP!! Egg collection was a smooth process – I feel a little slow and woozy from the anaesthesia but on the whole I am in no pain and I feel calm and relaxed. In The Disaster Round when we got five eggs and my lining was dire, I woke up after egg collection crying uncontrollably. Today, I feel good.
Although the consultant doesn’t normally work for the IVF clinic on Wednesdays, he popped down especially (from his private clinic) to do my egg collection this morning. Just before the anaesthetist gave me the “G&T” and sent me off to la-la land, the consultant appeared wearing a frog-clad bandana, which put a BIG smile on my face. By the way, is it only me or do you also find that every single anaesthetist says “and here comes the G&T….” before giving you the anaesthetic? I’ve been put to sleep 12 times over the past three years (!!) and every single one of them said the same thing, I swear. The head nurse who has been our primary contact during stimulation also popped down minutes before egg collection, just to wish me luck. It’s those little things that make you feel supported.
Today is day 11 of stimulation and I had an ultrasound scan this morning. There are seven follicles on the right ovary measuring between 15-22mm in diameter and four follicles on the right measuring between 19-26mm in diameter. There is also one more on the right ovary which is measuring 13mm in diameter and could possibly have a growth-spurt and reach 15mm by egg collection.
That’s a dozen in total, so I’m singing [in my head] my own version of The Pointer Sisters: “I’m so eggcited, I just can’t hide it…”
The blood work came back showing that the estrogen levels are up too, so we’re ready to go: double-trigger LH shots (Gonasi 5000 IU and Suprecur 1 mg) this evening – bam! – and collection scheduled for Wednesday, 8.30am. In my previous three rounds, I triggered with a single shot of Ovitrelle 250 mcg but in this round our consultant wants to try a double LH trigger in the hope that more eggs mature. Lucky egg collection is not on Friday because: “what’s the eggs worst day?”….. “fry-day”. (I just realised that I had egg collection on a Friday in The Disaster Round. That explains a lot.)
Today is the start of new beginnings: the start of my fourth egg collection. I have spent a lot of time over the last couple of months mentally resetting. Right now, I feel positive, hopeful and excited. I saw the lovely nurse at the clinic this morning for an ultrasound scan and the lining looks thin enough (1.7mm) to start . For an Asherman’s survivor having a thin lining fills you with FEAR, but today I’ll take it. Current IVF score after three rounds is: IVF 3 – Me 0. BRING ON ROUND 4.
I began stimulating this evening. For my first three rounds, I took Menopur (300iu in the first round and 450iu in the second and third rounds). This time we are going for the Rolls Royce of stimulation drugs: Bemfola. I will be taking the max dose: 450iu.
I am not squeamish and I’ve never had an issue with needles, so I don’t mind the injection phase – hats off to those of you who have fear of needles and still do this!! I was just thinking about all the odd places in which I have been “shooting up” throughout this process: work loo, random office medical room, a Pilates studio, a wedding (mid-speeches), hotels on work trips and the classiest place must have been the public toilet at Natural Kitchen (somehow it felt more virtuous than doing “it” at Gourmet Burger Kitchen). Sometimes I wonder if I could add to the “Other” section of my CV (or perhaps the dreaded “Interests” section): Highly skilled at self-administering subcutaneous injections in a calm, motivated and efficacious manner.
A month ago, I left hospital after surgery feeling quite positive despite having a punctured uterus (the hole-in-the-wall) and a stitched-up tummy. Morphine does wonders to your mental health – I can see the benefits of being a junkie!
I thought I simply had to take the oestrogen tablets (progynoba) that I had been prescribed for six weeks, recover from surgery and then move to IVF early June… Bam!
BUT, what I learnt since leaving hospital is that:
- Asherman‘s Syndrome is not a straight-forward condition (in fact, it is quite a rare one so awareness about the condition is low — even among the medical profession)
- most women need the same operation several times to clear all the scarring; and
- a pregnancy with Asherman‘s can lead to all sorts of complications – including, increased risk of miscarriage and stillbirth because there isn’t enough space in the uterus for the baby to grow. SCARY SHIT.