The In-Vitro Play-by-Play: Act II

God, I don’t want to pee on him. He’s too cute!

As an old married lady, I don’t have many opportunities to be viewed in the all-together by other males, so who knew that during the embryo transfer stage I would be given the chance for just such a thing. Well, after the surgical procedure of egg harvesting, we are sent home to wait for news of fertilization. While I was being sucked dry of eggs, Ben had to give up his boys into a specimen container which were cleaned and combined with my ova later in the same day. The nurse called us every day to inform us of their progress. It felt like they were baby-sitters for our future children. The first cycle was full of good news—ten eggs retrieved, eight fertilized, and five made it pass the four-cells stage. Thus two fresh ones were transferred and three were frozen for later use. The second used my previously frozen embryos, and the third cycle was absolutely abysmal—only five eggs were retrieved, and only two made it pass the four-cell stage. Diagnosis—tired ovaries.

When the pre-embryos are ready to be put into my uterus, we go back to the medical center. Since they are sensitive creatures, we are not allowed to wear scents of any kind. This was most difficult for me, since I love my Clinique Aromatics Elixir. Also you must have a full bladder for the insertion. Apparently, when your bladder is full, your uterus does not spasm (and this is a good thing when the doctor is trying to put a very long catheter into your uterus to place the four to eight-celled creatures). After we were greeted by a very cheerful nurse, a very handsome doctor walked in during my very first embryo transfer. He was very cute, and I just tried to keep it cool. By now I’ve had lots of people look in on my hoo-hoo, but never one so cute. The embryo transfer room was adjoined by the room where the fertilization laboratory. It was also where the embryologists practice their alchemy. No matter how science has illuminated the process, it is still a mystery as to which pre-embryos will survive in-utero. The doctors have referred to our pre-embryos as looking beautiful, but it’s pretty clear that flattery gets you nowhere.

My enthusiasm for the first transfer was grand. I very enthusiastically drank just about 2 liters of water, far exceeding what was needed. This would not have been a problem if everything had proceeded timely. There was a delay in beginning the procedure, and the very cute doctor had to use a second catheter. Forty-five minutes later and I was ready to burst. All the while I kept thinking to myself, “please do not pee on the cute doctor…he’s down there looking at all that…omagod she need not have pressed down so hard with the ultrasound doohickey…now I really gotta pee…and so forth.” I’m sure you’re getting the picture. Eventually the little yangtemki made it back inside me, and more waiting began. For the past year, we’ve had three negative pregnancy tests results that devastated us exponentially. Now we are getting ready for the fourth and final round, but my body is not cooperating. My uterine lining is too thick, and we are hoping to shed it with the use of Provera. Overly thick uterine lining could be a sign of cancer or other abnormalities. I’m hoping that this is just paranoia resulting from too much research. Needless to say the drama continues, but the outcome is uncertain. We are still hoping for the best and that my three months of hot flashes were well-spent. Wish us luck.

Airing our Dirty Laundry

For many of you it’s no surprise that I am laundry-challenged. Back in 1993 or so, Ben discovered that I was fond of creating pink underwear. Well, after the second or probably the fifth batch I was permanently banished from doing the laundry and when we purchased this house four years ago—the laundry room. I gleefully stayed away from it until yesterday. Wish I had a picture of the 'before,' but let’s just say that it was a mess. We have discovered or determined that I have a knack for organizing spaces, and he was ready for me to do my magic on his laundry room. After pulling every piece of stuff out, except for the washer/dryer and water heater, I swept and began to put items back in. Many items made acquaintances with the trash can, and some were moved elsewhere. After only half a day or so, we had created a sanctuary of cleanliness and seriously needed storage. I am happy.