The Slob and the Slave
Well they're in......
Thursday 15th was certainly a surreal experience. We arrived at the clinic 15 minutes early. Sitting in a small waiting area with one other Spanish couple and two ladies on their own. I sat wondering what they were all there for, were the two girls donors? Had they just donated? Why were the Spanish couple there were they having the same thing as us. I am so bloody nosey!
We all sat in silence regardless, even the mindlessness of 'Hello' couldn't lull me into a comatose boredom. I was anxious, the 4 sprays of rescue remedy before we left the hotel must of worn off.
Finally our turn came and we were taken into a windowless tiny room with a 'Klimt' picture of a mother and child on the wall, a rather haggard looking tv/monitor,a 1980's poofy black sofa thing and a skinny bed covered in paper upon which sat my sexy blue hospital gown and green feet cover things. The nurse had one of those white hospital hats on the lovely green foot cover things and a gown.
'So pop your bottmom half stuff off and then you can put on your sexy gown then the Dr will come and show you your embryo's on the monitor, the other two aren't as good as the two four cell embryo's we are putting back today, they have 7% and 10% framentation where as the others have a higher amount and are dividing at an abnormaly high rate, but we will monitor them over the next few days none the less and will see whether they would be up for freezing, but don't hold out hope for that. You do have some very good embryo's today though which is great.'
We feel a little disheartened but just have to hope for the best.
The nurse disappears back into the workings of the tiny clinic and I undress and gown up, I sit nervously perched on the edge of the bed G in the chair, we are left in there for what seems like an eternity, we amuse ourselves by taking photo's of me in my gown and G looking hungover. Finally the doctor enters and switches off the light, the monitor comes on.
'And here are your embryos'
The picture takes a while to focus, but yes, there they are, lit by a golden light, two little blobs.
The doctor points out the fragmentation,you can see that one embryo is definately better than the other, apparently it is great that they have divided to 4 cells on day 2 though. So the two little wobbly blobs are going to be re housed immenently.
Another nurse enters and escorts me into the room where the doctor potentially creates life on a daily basis.
I am a little shocked to see the lack of impressive equipment, all the programs I have seen show giant screens and things where you can watch the transfer, but all that can be seen is the famous stirruped bed, a rickety desk lamp poised at the end of the bed, and an unplugged heart monitor. I think the transfer is taking place in a spare room.
I am invited to mount the bed and place my legs in the stirrups, an embryologist peers through a tiny hatch from another room where she must get a ripe old view of my nether regions. The doctor enters and explains he will do a dummy run first and he seats himself in the appropriate area and draws the lamp towards him, the nurse is with me and casts me a smile, gently saying how lovely the embryos are.
It feels like a smear test as he cranks open the clamp thing that he has inserted, couple of slightly stingy sprays and he announces his first entry. The embryologist passes him a catheter and I look at the numerous black spots on the ceiling. There is what feels like an awkward silence, then he announces that he is now getting the embryos from the embryologist, who appears in the hatch and passes him the crucial implement, at this point as he is lining it all up I decide to break the awkward silence, by saying, 'I can't belive it is happening, I mean, it is hard to realise it is happening, it has taken us 3 years to get to this point'
The nurse says nothing. Just smiles.
'So how many embryos are the average for a cycle then?'
The doctor looks up at me probably in disbelief that I am chatting away to him at this crucial moment.
I then proceed to answer my own question.
'Well it probably depends on the quality of the sperm and the egg etc I suppose'
The nurse just smiles and agrees, then I notice she looks down at the doctor and he has his eyes closed, she says something and he shakes his head. It is all a blur really of what happened but I immediately panic that they haven't gone in and have slipped out or something or he missed because I distracted him.
He stands up.
'So we will now get the embryologist to check the catheter to confirm they are in'.
He disappears and the nurse looks awkward, I feel a little bit worried and have a bad feeling.
Thursday 15th was certainly a surreal experience. We arrived at the clinic 15 minutes early. Sitting in a small waiting area with one other Spanish couple and two ladies on their own. I sat wondering what they were all there for, were the two girls donors? Had they just donated? Why were the Spanish couple there were they having the same thing as us. I am so bloody nosey!
We all sat in silence regardless, even the mindlessness of 'Hello' couldn't lull me into a comatose boredom. I was anxious, the 4 sprays of rescue remedy before we left the hotel must of worn off.
Finally our turn came and we were taken into a windowless tiny room with a 'Klimt' picture of a mother and child on the wall, a rather haggard looking tv/monitor,a 1980's poofy black sofa thing and a skinny bed covered in paper upon which sat my sexy blue hospital gown and green feet cover things. The nurse had one of those white hospital hats on the lovely green foot cover things and a gown.
'So pop your bottmom half stuff off and then you can put on your sexy gown then the Dr will come and show you your embryo's on the monitor, the other two aren't as good as the two four cell embryo's we are putting back today, they have 7% and 10% framentation where as the others have a higher amount and are dividing at an abnormaly high rate, but we will monitor them over the next few days none the less and will see whether they would be up for freezing, but don't hold out hope for that. You do have some very good embryo's today though which is great.'
We feel a little disheartened but just have to hope for the best.
The nurse disappears back into the workings of the tiny clinic and I undress and gown up, I sit nervously perched on the edge of the bed G in the chair, we are left in there for what seems like an eternity, we amuse ourselves by taking photo's of me in my gown and G looking hungover. Finally the doctor enters and switches off the light, the monitor comes on.
'And here are your embryos'
The picture takes a while to focus, but yes, there they are, lit by a golden light, two little blobs.
The doctor points out the fragmentation,you can see that one embryo is definately better than the other, apparently it is great that they have divided to 4 cells on day 2 though. So the two little wobbly blobs are going to be re housed immenently.
Another nurse enters and escorts me into the room where the doctor potentially creates life on a daily basis.
I am a little shocked to see the lack of impressive equipment, all the programs I have seen show giant screens and things where you can watch the transfer, but all that can be seen is the famous stirruped bed, a rickety desk lamp poised at the end of the bed, and an unplugged heart monitor. I think the transfer is taking place in a spare room.
I am invited to mount the bed and place my legs in the stirrups, an embryologist peers through a tiny hatch from another room where she must get a ripe old view of my nether regions. The doctor enters and explains he will do a dummy run first and he seats himself in the appropriate area and draws the lamp towards him, the nurse is with me and casts me a smile, gently saying how lovely the embryos are.
It feels like a smear test as he cranks open the clamp thing that he has inserted, couple of slightly stingy sprays and he announces his first entry. The embryologist passes him a catheter and I look at the numerous black spots on the ceiling. There is what feels like an awkward silence, then he announces that he is now getting the embryos from the embryologist, who appears in the hatch and passes him the crucial implement, at this point as he is lining it all up I decide to break the awkward silence, by saying, 'I can't belive it is happening, I mean, it is hard to realise it is happening, it has taken us 3 years to get to this point'
The nurse says nothing. Just smiles.
'So how many embryos are the average for a cycle then?'
The doctor looks up at me probably in disbelief that I am chatting away to him at this crucial moment.
I then proceed to answer my own question.
'Well it probably depends on the quality of the sperm and the egg etc I suppose'
The nurse just smiles and agrees, then I notice she looks down at the doctor and he has his eyes closed, she says something and he shakes his head. It is all a blur really of what happened but I immediately panic that they haven't gone in and have slipped out or something or he missed because I distracted him.
He stands up.
'So we will now get the embryologist to check the catheter to confirm they are in'.
He disappears and the nurse looks awkward, I feel a little bit worried and have a bad feeling.
The embryologist pokes her head out of the hatch again and chirply announces.
'They have gone madam, good luck'
'Oh thankyou' I reply nervously,
The Doctor returns.
'So, they are in!' he exclaims,
I look at him.
'They are, they are in?'
Then he is gone.
The nurse gets G to sit with me while my uterus settles before I get dressed and can go back to the hotel.
We make our way back to the hotel via Simons car with Ruth cadging a lift home as she finishes her day at the clinic, we chat in the car about their life and what it's like working at the clinic, and then we arrive at our hotel, where we go to our room and I am to be waited on hand and foot! (it's a hard life!)
The Doctor returns.
'So, they are in!' he exclaims,
I look at him.
'They are, they are in?'
Then he is gone.
The nurse gets G to sit with me while my uterus settles before I get dressed and can go back to the hotel.
We make our way back to the hotel via Simons car with Ruth cadging a lift home as she finishes her day at the clinic, we chat in the car about their life and what it's like working at the clinic, and then we arrive at our hotel, where we go to our room and I am to be waited on hand and foot! (it's a hard life!)
I rest for twenty fours, unable to think of anything else other than what was (hopefully) in my uterus and what would happen in the future, I listen to meditations, balance, crystals on my abdomen, all in the hope that there will be a positive outcome to all of this.
I have moments of ridiculous excitement and contentment to moments of sheer worry and concern that it will never happen to us, I couldn't be that lucky.
So I try and remain positive and upbeat.
If nothing else for the little blobs that are (hopefully) in my uterus.
Labels: Embryo Transfer
posted by H | 04:29
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