It's all over. I started bleeding Friday afternoon, went home from work and did a test. Negative.
We are heartbroken.
Saturday, 28 March 2009
Thursday, 26 March 2009
6 days past transfer
Not much to say about Wednesday 25th except that I had a tiny, tiny bit of brown spotting on one occasion that I visited the loo. Almost so small an amount that I could have missed it. Of course, I have dangerously latched onto this sign as a sign of implantation, where sometimes, you can get a tiny bleed.
Please please don't let me get my hopes up if they are going to be dashed.
Come on Grub, dig in there. Get comfy. You will have a mummy who will read you stories, bake you cakes, throw you great birthday parties, and a daddy who will play football with you, make you laugh and teach you all about music. And both of us will love you forever. Please be real for us.
Please please don't let me get my hopes up if they are going to be dashed.
Come on Grub, dig in there. Get comfy. You will have a mummy who will read you stories, bake you cakes, throw you great birthday parties, and a daddy who will play football with you, make you laugh and teach you all about music. And both of us will love you forever. Please be real for us.
5 days past transfer
Tuesday 24th March was a strange day. I went back to work and that was ok, but in the afternoon I started to experience some very odd pains in my womb. They felt like someone was stabbing me with a knitting needle but from inside. I had probably about 6 episodes of this throughout the afternoon. I have never before felt anything like it - unlike period pain or IBS pain, it was much more localised, fleeting and sharp. I also felt really hot and flushed all day and my skin actually felt hot to the touch.
It's hard to dare to begin to think that this could be Grub implanting. Of course, the thought crosses my mind constantly, but you get the fear that you might jinx the whole thing even by entertaining the very possibility. This is the kind of internal conversation I am now having, constantly:
It's hard to dare to begin to think that this could be Grub implanting. Of course, the thought crosses my mind constantly, but you get the fear that you might jinx the whole thing even by entertaining the very possibility. This is the kind of internal conversation I am now having, constantly:
'What's that twinge? Is that Grub implanting?'
' No, maybe it was just a bit of wind, or it could be some side effects from the progesterone pessaries.'
'Yes, you're probably right'
'You can't be pregnant - you're not going to be that lucky and Grub was not even a blastocyst yet'
'How many more days before I can test?'
'At least another week'
'I can't take this any more'
'So test then'
'I'm too scared, I don't want to lose the fantasy of maybe being pregnant if it's negative'.
'What's that twinge?'
I am going slowly mad.
Days immediately following transfer
I felt very strange once Grub was on board. Like I was carrying something so very precious that it scared me. I took it easy on the sofa for 36 hours or so and then began pottering.
2 days after transfer (referred to hereafter as 2dp5dt which means 2 days past a 5 day transfer) I went out for lunch with my mum and sister. All afternoon I felt some pain in my left ovary (the one with the cyst) and a generally heavy and full feeling in my womb. I tried not to read too much into it.
3dp5dt was Mothering Sunday. Hmmmm. I had a rotten day. With everything going on I had forgotten to get my mum a present so H and I went to Marks and Spencers to get her something. In the shop I had a bit of a breakdown. I couldn't stop the tears. We had to grab a simple bunch of flowers and come home. I felt so depressed I could hardly lift my head up. I was utterly convinced it hadn't worked.
4dp5dt was an ok day. I pottered at home and made some tiaras. I felt more cheerful on the whole. I took H to the local hospital to have his wrist looked at again.
2 days after transfer (referred to hereafter as 2dp5dt which means 2 days past a 5 day transfer) I went out for lunch with my mum and sister. All afternoon I felt some pain in my left ovary (the one with the cyst) and a generally heavy and full feeling in my womb. I tried not to read too much into it.
3dp5dt was Mothering Sunday. Hmmmm. I had a rotten day. With everything going on I had forgotten to get my mum a present so H and I went to Marks and Spencers to get her something. In the shop I had a bit of a breakdown. I couldn't stop the tears. We had to grab a simple bunch of flowers and come home. I felt so depressed I could hardly lift my head up. I was utterly convinced it hadn't worked.
4dp5dt was an ok day. I pottered at home and made some tiaras. I felt more cheerful on the whole. I took H to the local hospital to have his wrist looked at again.
Transfer day - Grub made it!
We got the great news on the morning of Thursday 19th that our little Grub had made it through another night, and could be transferred back to his mummy today! What a huge relief.
Grub had not developed quite as quickly as they might have hoped: he was still classed as a morula, a picture of which can be seen above. A morula is a multi-celled embryo, the stage an embryo reaches before becoming a blastocyst. A blastocyst is an embryo whose cells have differentiated into two distinct types: those that will become the placenta, and those that will become the foetus itself. Usually, embryos are blastocysts by day 5 or 6, and when they reach this stage, they are about ready to attach themselves to the womb lining.
It was a bit worrying to hear this. Was Grub going to carry on developing? You can see from the post title that he did!
Embryo transfer was scheduled for 1.30. I had been instructed to be there at 1 with a full bladder. It's actually really hard to try to synchronise your bladder with a set time! I started drinking water before the 1 hour journey and by the time I got to the clinic I was full, but not unmanageably so. However, when at 1.20 they still hadn't come for me, my bladder was beginning to protest! I pleaded to go to 'let a bit out'!. Have you ever tried just letting a bit out when your bladder is screaming for release?! It's hard, let me tell you! The clinic were running late and I had to repeat this strange toilet trip three times!
H and I got taken into the theatre prep area and got gowned up. This time he was allowed to come in with me. All the nurses came in to see how his cheek was looking now and marvelling at the balloon sticking out from behind his ear. Freak show! I was a little nervous.
When we got into the operating theatre there was a nice atmosphere and music on. They put a picture of Grub up in the big screen and we got to see our potential baby for the first time. It was pretty amazing. To think that this ball of life had come from a bit of me and bit of H was just awe-inspiring. The embryologist pointed out that Grub had developed a bit more from when she had examined him in the morning, and that he was beginning to show signs of turning into a blastocyst. This was very reassuring news.
The actual transfer itself was not very pleasant but ok really. My legs were put in stirrups, a sheet with a hole was put over my bits, my cervix was clamped and cleaned, and then a long catheter was passed through my cervix, while a nurse pressed on my bladder with an ultrasound sensor so the catheter could be seen passing into the womb. I could see the screen - very odd!
Then Grub was loaded up into the catheter and the consultant carefully placed him in the best bit of my womb. All done. I have from then on been what is officially known as PUPO . . .
Grub had not developed quite as quickly as they might have hoped: he was still classed as a morula, a picture of which can be seen above. A morula is a multi-celled embryo, the stage an embryo reaches before becoming a blastocyst. A blastocyst is an embryo whose cells have differentiated into two distinct types: those that will become the placenta, and those that will become the foetus itself. Usually, embryos are blastocysts by day 5 or 6, and when they reach this stage, they are about ready to attach themselves to the womb lining.
It was a bit worrying to hear this. Was Grub going to carry on developing? You can see from the post title that he did!
Embryo transfer was scheduled for 1.30. I had been instructed to be there at 1 with a full bladder. It's actually really hard to try to synchronise your bladder with a set time! I started drinking water before the 1 hour journey and by the time I got to the clinic I was full, but not unmanageably so. However, when at 1.20 they still hadn't come for me, my bladder was beginning to protest! I pleaded to go to 'let a bit out'!. Have you ever tried just letting a bit out when your bladder is screaming for release?! It's hard, let me tell you! The clinic were running late and I had to repeat this strange toilet trip three times!
H and I got taken into the theatre prep area and got gowned up. This time he was allowed to come in with me. All the nurses came in to see how his cheek was looking now and marvelling at the balloon sticking out from behind his ear. Freak show! I was a little nervous.
When we got into the operating theatre there was a nice atmosphere and music on. They put a picture of Grub up in the big screen and we got to see our potential baby for the first time. It was pretty amazing. To think that this ball of life had come from a bit of me and bit of H was just awe-inspiring. The embryologist pointed out that Grub had developed a bit more from when she had examined him in the morning, and that he was beginning to show signs of turning into a blastocyst. This was very reassuring news.
The actual transfer itself was not very pleasant but ok really. My legs were put in stirrups, a sheet with a hole was put over my bits, my cervix was clamped and cleaned, and then a long catheter was passed through my cervix, while a nurse pressed on my bladder with an ultrasound sensor so the catheter could be seen passing into the womb. I could see the screen - very odd!
Then Grub was loaded up into the catheter and the consultant carefully placed him in the best bit of my womb. All done. I have from then on been what is officially known as PUPO . . .
Pregnant Until Proven Otherwise!
PGD results day (backtrack)
Ok - I'm sorry. I have some catching up to do!
The past week has been incredibly difficult to deal with and I developed the kind of mind-set where you just want to crawl into your own shell and not have any contact with the outside world. But I'll back track over what happened each day, mainly because I cannot face doing it all in one post.
So, back to Wednesday 18th March - the day we got the results of the PGD test on our embryos. It was a morning of hell. We had been told to expect the phone call from embryology at 10am, but we were both up from around 7am with nerves. We sat in bed talking and trying to distract our minds until the phone call came, sick with worry for 6 little clusters of cells that represented our future.
10am came and went. The phone remained silent. 10.30am came and went. Nothing. I was literally pressing my nails into my palms at this point with frustration. We couldn't even speak to each other at this point. It was agony. At 10.40am I could take no more and phoned the clinic, who apologised for the late call and said we'd be called very soon. More tense waiting. Then at 10.55am the phone rang.
Not brilliant news. Of our 6 embryos, all had survived the biopsy which was great, but there was only one which was definitely free of CF and ok to be used. There was one that was definitely affected, and then another two were giving weird results (apparently 3 copies of the gene!) and another two which seemed not to be developing very well.
So we were left with just one little embryo. I had named the six, Hugh, Pugh, Barney McGrew, Cuthbert, Dibble and Grub, after the six fireman in an old childhood TV Show 'Trumpton'. Now we just had to pin all of our hopes on Grub.
We were told to wait for another phone call the next day to let us know whether they could try to test the two with the strange results again. They would tell us the next day whether Grub had made it through the night and could be transferred back to me, or not.
The past week has been incredibly difficult to deal with and I developed the kind of mind-set where you just want to crawl into your own shell and not have any contact with the outside world. But I'll back track over what happened each day, mainly because I cannot face doing it all in one post.
So, back to Wednesday 18th March - the day we got the results of the PGD test on our embryos. It was a morning of hell. We had been told to expect the phone call from embryology at 10am, but we were both up from around 7am with nerves. We sat in bed talking and trying to distract our minds until the phone call came, sick with worry for 6 little clusters of cells that represented our future.
10am came and went. The phone remained silent. 10.30am came and went. Nothing. I was literally pressing my nails into my palms at this point with frustration. We couldn't even speak to each other at this point. It was agony. At 10.40am I could take no more and phoned the clinic, who apologised for the late call and said we'd be called very soon. More tense waiting. Then at 10.55am the phone rang.
Not brilliant news. Of our 6 embryos, all had survived the biopsy which was great, but there was only one which was definitely free of CF and ok to be used. There was one that was definitely affected, and then another two were giving weird results (apparently 3 copies of the gene!) and another two which seemed not to be developing very well.
So we were left with just one little embryo. I had named the six, Hugh, Pugh, Barney McGrew, Cuthbert, Dibble and Grub, after the six fireman in an old childhood TV Show 'Trumpton'. Now we just had to pin all of our hopes on Grub.
We were told to wait for another phone call the next day to let us know whether they could try to test the two with the strange results again. They would tell us the next day whether Grub had made it through the night and could be transferred back to me, or not.
Tuesday, 17 March 2009
Day 3 embryos - PGD day
So today was the day that our embryos underwent the pre-implantation genetic diagnosis. H also had his operation on his cheekbone, so it was a stressful day all round.
H's dad took him to hospital and waited there all day with him as we had decided that it wasn't the best place for me to be while I'm trying to recover and relax before the embryo transfer. I felt really guilty though.
I've waited by the phone all day for news of my H and news of my embryos. The operation went ok, but H now has an internal 'balloon' holding up his smashed cheekbone, which hopefully will do the trick. H is home now and groggy from the painkillers and the ordeal. Poor, poor man. I love him dearly.
I heard nothing from the clinic all day and then at 4pm I could distract myself no longer and called them. Unbelieveably, more good news. All six embryos had continued to divide and grow and were now 5-7 cells each. All six of them had been biopsied. This means that the embryologist has taken one cell from each of them (see the picture on the right) to test for cystic fibrosis. All of the embryos survived this procedure, and the embryologist said that that was very encouraging. She said that they were all now classed as grade 2, which she said is absolutely fine.
We now have to wait for the next phone call tomorrow which will tell us how many of the embryos are affected with cystic fibrosis. Statistically it will be 1 in 4. Please let our embryos continue to grow strongly and let there be enough non-affected ones to transfer back to me.
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