A Tale of E-pee-ic Proportions

Last night was my embryo transfer. Mike arrived home from work and we left for the clinic just in time to fight with rush hour traffic.  I knew I had to go in with a full bladder but I had been warned by a friend not to let it get so full that it was uncomfortable, so I used the loo right before we left since I have the bladder of an 80 year old man.  After about 30 minutes of sitting in traffic, I knew I was in trouble--I had to effing pee. We couldn't stop anywhere because we were already at the risk of being late but I knew I wouldn't be able to hold it until after my embryo transfer. So, I did the only irrational rational thing that a crazy, hormonal lady would do: I peed in a bottle in the back seat of my car. Yes, you read that right. When you gotta go, you gotta go.

As I climbed over the seat, Mike handed me an empty Gatorade bottle and wished me luck. I said, "It's okay, I've done this before."  Apparently after 7.5 years of marriage there are still things that Mike doesn't know about me. Ha! Luckily it was already dark so no one had any idea why I was squatting in the floor board of my back seat. Besides, this is the West Coast so I'm sure people have seen faaaaar crazier shit than this. I had a comforter in the back that we use to cover the seat when we have the dogs with us so I put that under me, in case of any drippage and there was drippage.  Grossed out yet?  Mike handed me my purse so I could dig out my hand sanitizer and I left the pee blanket and bottle in the back for him to deal with later, since I was going to be on bed rest. Aren't I a nice wife?

I wish the pee story ended there but it doesn't.  Remember the whole 80 year old man bladder? Yeah. By the time we arrived at the clinic 30 minutes later, I had to pee again. We could hear the nurses moving around in the back but no one was at the front desk to help us. I was thinking, "Dear God in Heaven, do they want me to piss myself?!"  About five hours later (Okay, it was only about five minutes but it felt like five hours!) the nurse came out, checked us in and informed us that the sonographer was running late. I groaned and Mike could see the pleading, pathetic look on my face so he asked the nurse if I had time to use the restroom before my appointment. The middle-aged nurse immediately went from sweet and gentle to torturess extraordinaire--she wouldn't let me pee. I'm sure the other couple in the waiting room were having a good laugh over the 27 year old woman doing the potty dance.

Now, here comes an admission that I'm not all that proud of (and you thought it couldn't get worse than the Gatorade bottle, right?)  I waited until the nurse went to the back.....and I snuck to the bathroom. There, I admit it.  In my defense, the sonographer was still MIA and I only went a little bit. Ah, it was blissful. About five minutes later, the sonographer finally arrived and I was almost immediately called back to the ultrasound room to have my bladder checked. My palms got sweaty and I felt like a kid going to the principal's office. "Oh shit, she's going to know that I just peed. Shit, shit, shit!" So I laid back on the table, she squirted me with warm goo and I prepared myself to be scolded.  My 80 year old man bladder was too full. Ha! So I waddled across the hall, clinging to the pink paper sheet around my waist and was instructed to empty my bladder 1 1/4 cups. Do you know how hard it is to pee without emptying your entire bladder? For serious.

After I was done I waddled back into the room, was squirted with more warm goo and the sonographer told me that I needed to empty by another 1/4 cup. Are you kidding me? As if the first time wasn't hard enough now I had to pee and almost immediately stop again.  Are these sonographers trained in the art of torture or what? I did as commanded though and before I could say I-hate-you, it was time to do my transfer! 

Who knew that it would take four people, working in simultaneous harmony, to knock me up?  The sonographer, the RE, the embryologist and the nurse were all in my business last night--I think it was a new record for me. The most uncomfortable part of the procedure was when my doctor shifted the speculum to straighten out my cervix--I was so worried about peeing on him! I couldn't see the ultrasound screen during the procedure but Mike was watching the entire time while holding my hand and rubbing my head.  He said that our embies looked like two shooting stars as they whizzed into my uterus and disappeared. My biology dork was in awe.

Resting for 30 minutes after the ET

We transferred two beautiful "premium quality" (Dr.'s words, not mine) expanding blastocysts. A little googling told me that an expanding blastocyst is the "best" embryo quality you can have, so I'm feeling pretty optimistic. Hopefully they're snuggling in and already beginning to hatch. Unfortunately, none made it to freeze so these two are our little champions.  Dr. gave me strict instructions to take it extremely easy for the next 72 hours--no lifting anything over five pounds (sorry kitties!) no orgasms (sorry husband!) and no strenuous activity.  He assured me that I wasn't going to "shake the babies out" and that there wasn't much science to back up his mandated rest period, but that he feels it's in the best interest f the embryos.  Apparently opening doors is strenuous because Mike was told that he even has to do that for me. You should have seen him carrying my purse last night--ha.  The paper that was sent home with us had instructions for me to travel home laying (lying?) down in the back seat but with the Gatorade bottle and pee blanket back there, that wasn't going to happen. I rode home in the passenger seat instead which was fine with me since it has butt warmers. We grabbed dinner at Panera (it's tradition now!) and I was able to eat real food for the first time in two days. I hope and pray that PIO and I are becoming friends now, although last night's shot was borderline unforgivable and I still had to take the maximum allowed dosage of Tums yesterday.

My doctor just celebrated his 25th anniversary of practicing IVF so he is kind of old school. Unfortunately I did not get a picture of my baby blasts because they don't like to "expose" the embryos for the purpose of picture-taking. So, we'll pretend that these little blasts below are Thing 1 and Thing 2, they all look the same at this stage anyway, right? I'm PUPO! Beta is next Friday.

Wordless Wednesday. ET Tonight!