I haven't done a post for a good few days because it has really been a stressful few days and I haven't felt like blogging. But I need to post now before there is any more to say as I am getting behind with all the news.
On Friday 13th, the day before egg collection, my H had a nasty accident. He fell about 8 feet from a roof and broke his arm, smashed his cheekbone and badly bruised his ribs. I got a call at work about 3.30pm and rushed home. We spent the next 6 hours in different hospitals and didn't get home till 10pm. We were so worried that the IVF cycle would be cancelled as H may have been admitted to a ward, but thankfully, he was allowed to go home. Poor H - he was really in pain.
We managed to keep our 8.30am slot for egg collection and arrived at Nottingham at 8am. My mum kindly drove us. We were put into a little room and I had to change into a gown. After some preliminaries and forms, I was collected by the nurse and walked down into the theatre. I was quite surprised at the size of the room - it was huge. I hopped onto the bed and the anaesthetist began to try to get the IV into the back of my hand. It took two attempts as my veins are quite awkward. When he succeeded he said, 'here's a nice big gin and tonic' and I remember thinking that I felt a bit drunk, then that was it - out for the count. Although it was not a general anaesthetic, I remember nothing, felt nothing and was completely oblivious to anything going on.
The first thing I remember is waking up in the recovery room with a warm sensation on my abdomen. It was a heating pad they'd placed there. There was a nurse in the room and I asked her how many eggs they'd got. How many times must she have been asked that?! She told me '7 eggs' and I promptly started weeping. 7 was not enough! I expected more like 10 to give us a good chance of them fertilising, surviving to day 3 when they do the biopsy, then surviving to day 5 for the transfer back into me. 7 felt like a dangerous number.
They wheeled me back to our little room and H came in to see me. The consultant and the embryologist both came to explain how the procedure had gone. They were unconcerned about the 7 eggs and told me that they expected that the other 3 follicles would have yielded immature eggs which would have been useless anyway, had they managed to extract them. We were reassured a bit then. The stern nurse told me off for 'sulking about my 7 eggs' with a twinkle in her eye.
We were driven home and looked after so well by my mum. We went to bed hoping for good news in the morning.
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