Sonohysterogram and HSG dye test.... again.

On a scale of 1-10, Guess how much I don't like booties, hair nets, and ugly gowns? 20.   Bleh.

So- I realized I was pretty emotionally raw when I wrote my last blog post.

I don't deal well with bad surprises.  I freeze up, get overwhelmed, freak out, then eventually work through it, and get over it.  (Sometimes)   And I usually write these blog posts after things have happened, so I have some perspective.  That last one I just wrote in the middle of it.  But I'm not that emotional all the time.  Just sometimes.

On Monday, I had 2 more procedures done.  The Sonohysterogram (where they inject saline soluntion into your uterus.  They can measure it and look for polyps and fibroids.)   And the HSG (Hysterosalpingogram)- where they inject dye into the uterus and Fallopian tubes and x-ray it to check for blockages and see how everything looks.  You're supposed to take 4 Advil an hour before the procedure.  It's uncomfortable, but it's not painful.

They did these 2 procedures in the out-patient surgery center, which didn't help my anxiety.  When I had these done last year at my other infertility doctor's office, they just did them in a special room in the office.  (They do these once a year.)  :P!!!!

The good news is... nothing has grown back since my surgery last year.  Everything still looks good for the transfer.

I get one more procedure the Monday after Christmas.  (an Endometrial Disruption).  This helps to increase the IVF pregnancy success rate.  

So... that's where we're at so far!

Rough weekend.

Friday started off a good day.  I had the day off from work, and I went with my friend Deena to the temple.

 When I came out I had 3 missed calls.  Man, I was popular.

One was from my Fertility Treatment Center asking me to call them back.  I kinda got the feeling that this wouldn't be good news.   I usually talk with the same IVF coordinator Dayna.  She knows me, and I know her.  There's a comfort level there.  But she was on vacation, so I spoke with a different lady.  And I don't know if that affected how I took the news or not.  But it might have played  a factor.

Our genetic testing results came back.

Out of our 2 embryos, one was normal.  One was abnormal.

Our abnormal embryo had a deletion of the long arm on chromosome 12.   What the heck does that mean?  The lady couldn't tell me, but told me to call the lab to speak with a genetic counselor.   But it didn't sound good.  I googled it.  That didn't really help.  It's a rare chromosome disorder- and they can't really tell you what specifically it causes.  But it's a lot of problems.  And that's even if it results in a live birth.  This embryo was missing over 2,000 genes.

And by the way, she mentions, we still need to schedule 3 more procedures before the transfer.

What????

As far as I knew, my next "procedure" was getting the embryo transfer at the end of January.  I thought I was doing my meds in December, and staring the shots/ ultrasounds/ blood draws in January, and then doing the transfer.

Nope.

Apparently, they need to do a sonohysterogram (where they inject saline into my uterus), an HSG test (where they inject dye into my uterus and fallopian tubes).   Both of which I had last year- but apparently they need to be repeated once a year.  And I didn't do well with these last year.  I remember I had to take valium to get through the HSG test.

AND, by the way, an endometrial disruption.  (That just doesn't sound good.)  I asked if it hurt.  And she said there was some discomfort.  (Which means yes.)

Welcome to me being overwhelmed again.

We only have 1 good embryo left, oh and by the way, you need 3 more procedures before you even get to January.

That night was our ward Christmas party, which I was supposed to bring cookies to.  I had been looking forward to it, because all the kids were going to act out the Nativity story.  So of course, it was going to be adorable.  Plus, my nephew was in it.

After I got this news, I was kind of numb.  I did have other plans for the day, but I went home instead.  I made the cookies, took them to the church, and left.  I just couldn't be around people.

When my hubby got home from work, I told him about this phone call.  And started crying.  I get tired of crying so much.  Sometimes you cry so much, you just feel empty inside.

I didn't want to do this anymore.  We only had 1 egg.  I had to get 3 more procedures.  And we all know, I don't do well with "procedures" that cause "discomfort".  I can barely get through getting my blood drawn without hyperventilating.   I didn't want to do this.

I spent the weekend juggling feelings of numbness, anger, and sadness.

I went to a friend's house on Sat night, and that was during my angry stage.  She made the comment that I can't be angry.  To which I replied, Oh you bet I can.  It's one of the stages of grief I have to work through.  In addition, a marriage counselor once told me that anger is a secondary emotion.  It's usually masking pain or fear.   Or both in my case.  So yes, I was angry.  I had to deal with being down to one embryo.  I had fears that what if I went through all this, and that one embryo didn't even survive being defrosted?  What if this was all for nothing??

I needed to work through my emotions.  I needed to feel angry.  And sad.   And not bury those feelings inside.  I needed to experience them in order to work through them.  But I also needed strength and a desire to keep going.  Which I did not have.

 There's a scene in a pioneer movie that shows a woman who had just lost a baby stopping on the trail and not wanting to go any further.  That was me.  I felt that.

Saturday night, it was my turn to pray.  I didn't want to.  I didn't want to talk about it.  I didn't want to feel the pain.  I was just going to say a neutral prayer.  And not talk about any of this.   But I broke down and asked for help.  I asked for strength, and courage.  I cried and prayed for the desire to persevere.  Because I didn't have it.

Sunday morning, I was still feeling down, like I couldn't do this.  I was really having a hard time.  It was fast Sunday, so I texted my family members since I knew they would be fasting/ praying anyway.  I asked for their prayers.  Mainly that I would have the strength to get through these next 2 months.  And that after the transfer, that I would have enough faith to accept God's will if this all doesn't work.

That's the hardest part.  First, figuring out God's will for me.  And second, accepting it.  Letting go of my plans.  And understanding that this is out of my control.  And turning my fears/hopes/worries/dreams to the Lord, and trying to understand that whatever happens will be for the best in the long run.

Popsicle babies- Hans and Anna

Once I had some time to kind of come to terms with being down to 2 embryos...  I started joking around again.  (Sometimes I'm okay with it, sometimes I'm not.)  But I'm getting to the point where I can talk about it.  Previously, I had been referring to my frozen embryos as my popsicle babies.  

But now that we were down to 2, I jokingly named them Hans and Anna.   

Hans- for Han Solo (from the movie Return of the Jedi)

And Anna-  (from the movie Frozen)

These are the only 2 that I could think of that were frozen, but everything still turned out okay in the end.

At my first appointment, the doctor measured my uterus and told me I had enough room to carry twins.  I've always wanted twins.  So the idea of having Hans and Anna chilling out in the freezer made me happy.  It was a possibility.  

My 2 embryos that continued growing were up to 50 cells, and that's when they freeze them.  We are doing a frozen embryo transfer.  (FET)   That's what my doctor recommended for me.  (and I know several friends who were able to get pregnant using a FET.)

Other people do a fresh embryo transfer.  (Which means that they do the surgery, then about 4 days later, transfer the fertilized embryos back in.)  From what I've been told, that's a little rough.

Because I was doing a frozen embryo transfer, I was able to take Advil and other meds after my retrieval surgery.  So the recovery wasn't bad at all.

If you decide to do any genetic testing, you have to do a Frozen Embryo Transfer, because they need time to test them.  We opted to do the genetic testing, due to many factors.   I'm only doing this once.  I don't want to do another IVF cycle.  They're expensive.  It takes a huge emotional toll.  They're a pain in the butt  (literally and figuratively).  So I want to find out which embryo has the best chance of going full-term if I get pregnant.  

The odds are never in my favor.

It was about a week later, and I hadn't heard from my doctor's office about how our 6 embryos were doing.  So I called them today. 

Through the process of natural selection, some of the embryos will just quit growing.  So I was curious how many we had.

 They called me back that night, and I put it on speaker phone so my husband could hear the conversation.

The lady told me that I had 2 embryos that survived.  (out of my 6)   My heart kind of stopped for a minute.

She was upbeat about it.  She said they were rated "good" and "good to fair".

(The rating system goes Very Good/ Good/ Good to Fair/ Fair to Poor/ Poor.)  So the 2 embryos I had scored pretty high.  So she felt like that looked promising when it came time to transfer.

When we were talking on the phone, it was mostly good.  We talked about the next phase.  I'm supposed to call on Cycle Day 1 (which should be this week), and then I'll be back on birth control for a while.  And then we'll talk about doing the transfer in January.

After we hung up, my husband and I hugged.  He said that was kind of mixed news.  (We only got 2 embryos, but they got pretty good ratings.)  

I started getting teared up a little bit.  I said I was excited about our 2 embryos, but it still hurts that we only had 2 out of the 6 survive.  The rest quit growing.  I know it was part of the natural selection that they warned us about.  But we were still crushed.  We were really hoping/ praying for 3 or 4 to make it.

Only having 2 embryos to work with means we only get one chance at this.  They will implant them both and see if one or both take.  I was really hoping for some back-up ones.  Because knowing my luck, they wouldn't take.  And all of this would have been for nothing.   Well, not for nothing.  It's brought my husband and I closer.  And I've learned to face my fear of needles.  (I won't say overcome, but I face it grudgingly.)  And we will finally get closure about whether or not my body can conceive children.

But it's heart-breaking.  And I started crying.  A little bit.  Then a lot.  Then I told my husband I needed to go lie down because I was getting light-headed.  I went to lie down on the bed. I started coughing.  And crying.  And coughing, and crying.  And sobbing.   Hubby came in and held me while I cried.  I felt like I was broken.  I felt like no matter what I do, I can't conceive a child.  I told him I was sorry I can't give him a baby.  I felt like I was denying him opportunities to be a dad.  He told me he didn't see it that way.  He said we were just doing the best we could with what we had been given.  I told him I hadn't been given very much to work with.  He didn't say anything.

I cried for while, and he continued to hold me.  I started thinking about how it was a numbers game, and I was not in general a lucky person.  I feel like I am a very blessed person.  And I was very lucky to have met Devon, and have him in my life.  But in general, I'm not lucky.  I'm not one of those people.  If we are drawing names out of a hat, it's not going to be mine.  But that's ok.  In fact, if something can go wrong, it usually does.  And in other parts of my life, I just deal with it and joke about it.   But this hurts too much to joke about.

But then a thought came into my mind.  This wasn't a numbers game.  It wasn't playing the odds.  And no amount of bad luck is going to influence the outcome one way or another.  I have no control over the outcome.  This is all in Heavenly Father's hands.  This was by divine design that I only had 2 embryos survive.  And that was His choice, on purpose.  I had nothing to do with it.  So I needed to stop blaming myself and my body for things that were out of my control.  Whatever was going to happen was going to happen.  And it was by divine design.  So that's just the way it is.

Eventually, I started breathing regularly again.  And we went and got some dinner.  And turned on the TV to distract me, and tried to forget about it for a while.

IVF Surgery Results

After the surgery, the doctor told us that he was able to retrieve 6 eggs.  After he left, I started crying.  Only 6??  ALL that pain, work, effort for just 6 eggs?  I had had 10 follicles going into surgery.

Previously, they had told us the attrition rate is high.  Not every follicle has an egg.  Not every egg will be a mature egg.  And not every egg will fertilize.  So even if you start with a high number of eggs, you still end up with a lower number of embryos.  And we were already starting with a low number.

Our hope was that after going through this IVF cycle of retrieving and freezing my eggs, that we would have enough to try it a couple of times.  They will implant the equivalent of 2 good embryos.  (They rate the eggs according to quality.)  So it might be 2 good quality embryos or 1 good, 2 poor quality embryos that get implanted.  And we had hoped that worst case scenario, if they implanted the first batch, and I didn't get pregnant, that we could try again the next month.   Or best case scenario, even if I DID get pregnant the first round, then we could freeze the remaining eggs and try again for another baby in 2 years.

So, we were really disappointed to hear that our starting number was 6.  (and who knows how many eggs would actually become embryos.)

That was Saturday.  That night was my husband's turn to pray.  He prayed that if possible 5 of the 6 would fertilize and become embryos.  

On Sunday before church, I got a phone call from the embryologist, and miraculously all 6 embryos had fertilized.  So that was our first miracle.   The doctor said that was very rare, and hardly ever happened.   

It got me thinking about prayer.  I know praying is not supposed to be a shopping list... not a wish list.   What I believe is that:

Prayer is the act by which the will of the Father and the will of the child are brought into correspondence with each other. The object of prayer is not to change the will of God but to secure for ourselves and for others blessings that God is already willing to grant but that are made conditional on our asking for them. Blessings require some work or effort on our part before we can obtain them. Prayer is a form of work and is an appointed means for obtaining the highest of all blessings.

So I was trying to figure out what that means for us.  Because I also know that when we pray sometimes the answer is yes.  But sometimes the answer is no.  Or not yet.  So for whatever reason... maybe just to buoy us up during this hard time... Heavenly Father answered our prayers and all 6 embryos fertilized.  

Egg Retrieval Surgery- IVF

Last Saturday, I had my egg retrieval surgery.  Strangely, I was kind of looking forward to it, just to get it over with.  It's an out-patient surgery that lasts about 2 hours.  (including recovery)

At night, hubby and I try to kneel down and pray together as a couple before going to bed.  (That's assuming one of us hasn't fallen asleep already- which is usually me.)  When I was praying, I confided to Heavenly Father that I was feeling scared.  And I asked him to bless me with peace and comfort to get through this.   And He did.  I was able to sleep through the night pretty well.

That morning, I had hubby give me a priesthood blessing.  He not only blessed me, but also blessed the doctors, and those that would be working with me.  I felt at peace while driving to the hospital.

FYI- I have a history of being uncooperative with hospitals.  When I was 14 and needed surgery, they had me go into the bathroom to change into a hospital gown.  I locked myself in the bathroom and wouldn't come out.  The poor nurse kept knocking on the door.  "Honey... it there anything I can help you with?"  Nope.   It took them a while to convince me to open that door.   Now, looking back on that, I realized how far behind I must have thrown that doctor's schedule by doing that.  But - oh well.  They had even more trouble trying to get me to cooperate to get the IV in too.  I just get freaked out by needles.

 So now that I'm an adult (or at least pretend to be), I find ways to work around that.  For example, I have them cover up the IV with not just surgical tape, but wrap my hand with a towel or coband.

When they had me go into the bathroom to change into the ugly hospital gown, I had a flashback of my childhood.  I could just lock myself in here again.  As I changed, the words of the church hymn "I Need Thee Every Hour" came into my head.  And I changed them, I prayed in my head that I didn't just need Him every hour, I needed Him right now... to get through this.  I took a deep breath, and went out to face my fate.  My supportive hubby sat in the chair next to me.

The nurse that put my IV in was very compassionate and patient.  She told me I could take a minute.  (Probably because I kept pulling my hand away.)  But eventually, I let them put the IV in.  (But I wouldn't look at it until they covered it up.)

While the nurse was doing the in-take questionnaire, hubby had to leave to go do his part.  (He had to provide semen, so that the embryologist would have fresh sperm to inject into the retrieved eggs.)  He gave me a hug and a kiss before he left.  And I was by myself.

After the paperwork, they had me walk back to the operating room.  I didn't like that.  They had tools on a tray, and I could feel my anxiety rising.  They had me lie on the table and cross my arms on my chest, while they wrapped me tight in a blanket and strapped my legs in.  I felt my body clenching up.  I kept thinking "Knock me out, knock me out!  I don't want to see this!!"

Soon after that, they did.  They put the oxygen mask on, which was good because I think I was starting to breathe harder.  And not much longer after that, I was under.  And it was better.

I woke up later and Devon was beside my bed.  I was sore, but it didn't really hurt too much.  But I was a little nauseous.  But they gave me something for that which helped a lot.  They gave me a prescription for Percocet for when I went home.

Hubby said I slept all the way home.  He helped me to the couch, and I stayed there for the rest of the day.  I ate soup and apple juice all day.  And some noodles for dinner.  I felt so much better after the surgery was over.  I was sore, but since they drained all the fluid from each follicle, the overly bloated/ sick feeling was gone.  And my tummy didn't hurt like it had previously.

So I was glad that surgery was done.  Part 1 - Done.

I have a good dog.  She stayed by my side all day, just to make sure I was okay.  <3

The week leading up to surgery- IVF

The week leading up to the egg retrieval surgery is complicated.  You don't know exactly what day your surgery will be on.  You have a range of dates, and they narrow it down as you get closer based on how you are progressing.

Get used to seeing this every day.

They have you come in every morning for a blood draw and ultrasound.  The blood draw monitors your hormone levels, and the ultrasound measures the size of your follicles.  

I had 10 follicles that were growing well.  There is no exact number that they are looking for, it's case-by-case.

It's tricky because each day you don't know what's going to happen until you get your results.

  You get the blood draw and ultrasound in the morning, then in the afternoon they'll call you with any changes in your medication/ shot dosage.  So things change on a daily basis sometimes.  On Thurs, I got a phone call that told me my surgery was going to be on Saturday morning!   And that I needed to do my trigger shot that night!   One of my shots was supposed to be at 5:30 pm, then my trigger shot was at 7:30 pm.  Then I had another one at 9:30 pm.   (And I found all this out at 3 pm on Thurs.  My hubby usually doesn't get home from his work until 6:00 or 6:30 pm!)   So I had to hurry and contact him to see if he could leave early.  It was kind of rushed.  And crazy.  But were a little late with the first shot, but everything else was on time.  

All those meds in my system made me nauseous.  But I never actually threw up.  I just felt like I was going to.  Towards the end, you just feel bleh.  And REALLY bloated.

And that's normal, because all the extra follicles are filled with fluid.  During your regular cycle, you'll grown and release one egg per month.  During an IVF cycle, you'll be growing multiple eggs.