5!

This morning we transferred all 5- for you fertility geeks like me-

1 3 cell B+

1 4 cell C

1 5 cell B-

1 7 cell B+

1 8 cell B

HOLY SHIT PEOPLE, I'm currently carrying a litter.

I felt so incredibly odd having them exist, but not having them inside me, and I feel much better now that we're all hanging out together, you know, until I think of the number.

Dr. R did the transfer, someone I had never met. He used to work in a big Boston clinic and do 20 of these a day, every day-- so when he said based on his experience that he would absolutely recommend transferring them all due to my age, we went with his suggestion. I have a philosophical inclination not to transfer more than it is possible to carry safely-- you know, just in case. But he is right-- because of my age, it will be lucky to be pregnant at all after this, and extra lucky to stay pregnant, and likewise, it is highly unlikely that the unthinkable would happen.

But I know this already- admittedly vehemently pro choice kate speaking here, that while it is likely/expected they will not all make it, that will make me sad- even though it would be *crazy*, untenable and impossible if they did.

Ok I need to make a comment about progesterone shots-- they suck rocks and I am really lucky my protocol includes daily suppositories (yay festive bubbly pee) rather than shots. But on retrieval day and transfer day, the give a shot of PIO. And today, I was extra lucky, I had two. The needle fell off halfway through the first shot, so I got a bonus shot. Lucky me.

I also need to make a comment on the requisite "uncomfortably full bladder" required for transfer. I am not sure I have been that uncomfortable ever. In the past, the distant past I may add, when I had to pee that kind of badly, I literally just went-- wherever-- behind a tree, in my pants, whatever. So I have never let myself get that uncomfortable and certainly not then stay that way. It was horrid. Before we began I was allowed to empty *some* (enter super human effort here) since I was so uncomfortable.

But by the time the ultrasound thingy was pressing on my bladder, the speculum was in and open, good lord. And my notorious tea-cup sized bladder was looking like a pumpkin on the screen-- gah.

For those of you who have not done this particular part- I think I want to share the broad strokes. Went in, got undressed from the waist down. It always makes me laugh when they step out to give you privacy at this point, since really, most of these folks are going to see your uvula from the inside out pretty soon anyway.

Then up on the table, progesterone shot, hair net, face mask, ultrasound (external as with this whole procedure, a nice change, you know, except for the bladder)--

while getting positioned, the doc came in and we talked about numbers and reasoning and advice-- and there was all of the confirmational stuff with the embryo lab (adjacent to the procedure room and for me, the door opening right where everyone in the lab could see my religion). Confirmation of my name, birthdate, embryo count, number to transfer....

then my doc did a trial thread of the catheter since we had not worked together before-- all ok, then he called into the embryo room. Those folks loaded our embryos in a syringe thingy, and brought it in forthwith-- this is a really quick process, there is no dilly dallying. That catheter was threaded, I could see it on the ultrasound, then, just like that, the embryos were deposited, and the cath removed and checked by the embryo lab to make sure none were lurking-- all clear, done.

And we had a great view of 5 sparkling lights in my uterus before we were done.

In at 7:45, out at around 8:30.

***

of course my betas are scheduled for when I am in the netherlands week after this so that is something that will need to wait-- they are scheduled for day 12 and day 14 (past retrieval). So... I will call the nurse about that tomorrow. And, as an added bonus complexification (I like my new word), I need to bring suppositories with me (yay) on my european jaunt. Somehow refrigerated. Hmmm.

About Squam-- folks last year raved that it was a lovefest, lifechanging, transformational.. and I thought ok, I hear you, but for me it will be an art workshop. But you know? I was kinda wrong. It was an art workshop, but it was not only that. My transformation was admittedly more quiet-- the reason it was life changing for me was a combination of the amazingly beautiful location and wide open sky over the lake, the permission I gave myself to play and make mistakes and try stuff anyway, and the truly lovely people that I met.

A special shout out to my amazing cabin mates-- sweet Sarah, Crissy, Sarah, Tracy, Lisa and Jess-- smart, talented, lovely and wonderful artists and people who absolutely made the week for me. And also to Denise of bohogirl fame, for our brief real life hello and for looking at me with her beautiful, warm, deep brown eyes in the midst of the dining hall sensory overload and in that moment making me feel both visible and seen, and oh, to Jen Lee-- honestly, what a blessing to have met her-- I am not sure what finally will matter more, the impact on my writing or on my heart. I imagine it will be both. Let me just say that for how difficult this was in many ways, for the old fears and discomforts and some that were new, I would not trade it. If you go next year, trust me on this, bring gloves, a hat, scarves, sweaters, a heating pad or hot water bottle- and a travel mug. I was cold most of the time indoors and out and I live in NH and have no excuse of ignorance. And for goodness sakes bring a good bright flashlight. I have never been anywhere more dark ever. Walk into a tree dark. If you are a city person and cannot imagine uninsulated cabins, or a spider in your sink, or the kind of darkness that swallows you, this may suck.

The only regret I have is not swimming- but I couldn't really-- the water was so clean and so beautiful, it begged for star spangled skinny dipping.

Thank you for your amazing support always-- I cannot tell you how much it matters, but for those of you out there, I imagine you know-- your kind words and wishes bolster me, my intermittent bravery, my resolve. Thank you. I hope to be a better blogger, and now that I am back on line I hope to check in. I feel very out of touch.

So my 5 little ones and I are going to sack out now. We were up at 5 to drive north-- the dark starry sky giving way to light and fog and frost (!) and changing colors, I am not sure anything could be more beautiful.