It’s a bit of an emotional roller-coaster.

My egg pickup on Saturday went well - I had 11 eggs – yay!  I was over the moon.

I turned up for my embryo transfer this morning to find that only two eggs had made it as far as four-celled embryos.  Devastated. 

Well, those two champions were transferred by my very nice doctor and are now inside me.  I was so shocked by the news that I couldn’t even hang around and speak to him about what happened.  I almost fled out of the consulting room when he was finished, holding back tears.  It was such a revolting feeling to walk out via the waiting room where plenty of other women were eagerly anticipating their transfers, and of course, I held my red eyes low as I assumed they would look at me wondering why I was bothering in the first place … at my age.

I can’t help but think that if nine of my eggs were so bad then why should these two that I’ve got inside me limp along any further than about eight cells.  The truth is that I’ve left it too late.  My good eggs have just about run out.

So much for the birth control pill.  So much for the high hormone dose.  So much for the acupuncture.  Aargh.

I have my Border Collie at my feet whilst typing this.  The kitten is on my desk hitting the buttons with me – very difficult to type straight . 

The bright side is that I have two embryos inside me.  I have hope, a wonderfully supportive husband (the first thing he said was “Well, if this doesn’t work honey we can try again straight away”), and I have prayers.

I promise my next post will be happy and positive.  Like I said earlier … this will be my month!

Ha ha!  The kitten got too inquisitive about the Border Collie sleeping under the desk and FELL OFF the edge of the desk ONTO HIM!  What a calamity!  

Here are our two pets! 

William is the ever-responsible, insanely jealous dog and Tabatha is the new kitten who just wants to make friends.  We love them to bits!