A Taste of IVF Over 40

Archive for November 2008

I hate the not-knowing.  I caved (again!) and got a negative home pregnancy test this morning.  I am home alone and the insanity got to me.  Plus, what harm can it do. It was like eating bad tasting chocolate if you get my drift.

Anyway, having said that … I have good news!  I have discovered the best website I have ever seen to discuss and demonstrate embryonic development.  It is here. There’s also another one which is fairly good here.  Doesn’t the two week wait generate such a craving for knowledge?

Really, what did you expect?  I had to do something and so surfing the net for “timeline of embryo development secretion of hcg” made perfect sense (don’t you think!!?). He hee.

My husband is out of town for four days (but he gets back tonight) and I am absolutely going nuts!!  I didn’t fall asleep until after 2:am this morning because I kept telling myself over and over again all this stupid stuff (you can imagine).

Anyway, check out the links above; you won’t be sorry xx

Still waiting, waiting, waiting.

HRT: I’m still taking Progynova tablets (3 x 2mg/day) and the Progesterone pessaries (2 x 400mg/day).  These progesterone pessaries are way cooler than the Crinone pessaries, and a lot stronger.  I wonder if it is the progesterone that is making my boobs tender.  I’ve never had tender boobs from the IVF hormones.  These pessaries are a little wax capsule.  The wax melts away after a few minutes leaving the progesterone behind.  I think the Progynova makes me nauseous but the nurse reckons it shouldn’t.  But it’s just a light nausea; not too bad.  I’ve had it on and off for the last two or three weeks.

HPT: Still waiting.  Oh.  I hate this.  Do you think I should do a home pregnancy test yet?  I’m pacing up and down.  I went to bed really early last night simply because I just can’t handle the ‘not-knowing’.  When I was a kid, my Mum always used to say, “The quicker you get to sleep the quicker Santa will come”.  I just want to sleep until my results come through.   I do this every time.  I hit this 2ww wall.  Actually, it’s not a wall.  Well, if it was a wall the two week wait would be a wall made of marshmallow.  And it’d be about two weeks’ thick. 

FROZEN EMBRYO: The best news is that the third (grade three) embryo made it to the freezer.  All hope is not dashed if this is not successful.

Waiting, waiting, waiting.

I went to lunch with some girlfriends to Jamie Oliver’s restaurant in Melbourne “Fifteen” yesterday.  Of course Jamie wasn’t there but one of his famous chefs, called Toby (I think), with curly hair was there.  Yum – great way to pass the time and take my mind off things!

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It’s hard doing IVF.  It’s hard using donor sperm.  It’s harder using donor eggs. And no-one knows.  No-one in real life (IRL) anyway.

  1. This blog is anonymous. 
  2. No-one knows who I am. 
  3. I can say things that my husband wouldn’t understand.
  4. I can say things that would frustrate my husband.
  5. My parents don’t know I’m going through all this.
  6. My friends IRL don’t know I’m going through all this.
  7. My clinic isn’t a friend; it’s a clinic.
  8. The nurses at my clinic are lovely but they are so busy; too busy to have a cup of tea and a chat.
  9. I’m not a touchy-feely type of person but my blog helps me to express my feelings.
  10. I feel better when I blog.
  11. I’ve made a heap of great friends online (that I will sadly never meet).
  12. My online friends give me the support I need when my cat doesn’t quite meet the mark.
  13. Blogging is like a medicine that doesn’t harm embryos (although you need to watch out – it’s addictive!).
  14. Blogging is your friend when you can’t sleep at 1:00am.
  15. Blogging is like having a Tupperware party with a heap of girlfriends who know what you’re going through – without the Tupperware … or the party.
  16. It’s educational.
  17. My online friends don’t try and preach to me in my blog.
  18. My online friends don’t try to be experts when they respond to my posts.
  19. My online friends share my pain and genuinely feel my happiness.
  20. I can wear my pyjamas and still sound clever and witty.
  21. I might not have showered all day and no-one knows!
  22. I can be as beautiful as you like or as ugly as you like and no-one cares.
  23. I can cry while I’m typing and people know that I am sad.
  24. When I’m sad, people online make me feel better.
  25. It’s like a group of friends all huddling around me.
  26. I check my blog as soon as I come home and last thing before I go to bed.

I am so glad that I have this blog.

Well, I am pretty confused.  I got my hopes up to some ridiculously stupid level again.

I had two embryos transferred today: 1 x grade two and 1 x grade three.  There’s another grade three embryo that will hopefully get frozen and, if necessary, thaw successfully (but I’m getting ahead of myself here).  Warning: lots of complaining and self-pity below.

Why did I think that I’d get a heap of grade one and grade two embryos?  Stupid!  I was actually dumbstruck when the doctor told me that we only had three.  Heck, that’s what my own eggs are giving me. 

The guy I saw today isn’t my normal doctor (he’s gone on holidays, lucky fellow).  By the time I got over my loss of words I was undressed and getting my cervix opened.  I was pretty confused by the situation and so I asked a coupla questions (whilst laying there).

“How many eggs fertilised?” I asked.  His response was pretty cold and matter-of-fact.  He said that he could only tell me that we had three embryos.  It’s pretty hard to be assertive with your cervix spread-eagled.  I asked “So, was there any difference in the quality of these eggs compared to my eggs?”  He just said that we’d find out when we find out if this is successful – if I get pregnant.

Now, I just don’t think this is enough information.  I feel under-informed.  I feel confused and a little depressed.  I feel like a bloody number in a production line.  We have paid a small fortune to MIVF over my last five cycles.  I’d like a little information, some facts, an educated opinion.

My husband thought maybe the donor sperm can be at fault but I don’t know.  I said I didn’t think so.  I haven’t told my niece we only got three embryos – I think she also thought that we’d have more.  I probably gave her that idea.  I honestly thought we’d have five or six.  Where the hell did I get that number from?  Is it that unrealistic?  I didn’t think so but, oh well, nothing in this game is certain.  I should’ve known better.  I’m not going to tell her how many embryos we got – no point really.  She knows I had two embryos transferred today and I think that’s got her feeling pretty good. 

To help me along, I am telling myself that my niece’s egg quality has to be better than my own egg quality; that there is a better chance.  I wonder if there is a site that discusses this type of situation in a bit of detail?  I mean obviously a 24 year old’s grade two embryo has to be better than a 41 year old’s grade two embryo – right?   

I feel like they must have dropped half of the eggs on the floor or accidentally ruined them and didn’t want to tell me.  Maybe the eggs themselves weren’t that great.  Maybe someone told them that they were going to be transferred into me and they jumped into another petrie dish! 

But really … Really!  I can’t sleep at the moment so I am writing this ridiculous garble.  I’d feel a lot better if I’d had a four minute conversation with this guy.  If he’d at least given me some statistics, some positivity.  All he said was “Good luck” – about three times – as I was leaving.  Argh. 

I feel better already.  Nothing like a good whinge to friends ☺.  And, well, I feel the roller coaster starting to head for the sky again.  Time for the two week wait.

By the way, I am very quietly jumping out of my skin for the Evil Stepmonster, Peeveme and for the lady Behind the Mask who all had positives today – I’m sending lots of positive energy their way.  Is there something in the broadband?  ☺ I want some too ☺

Sorry for all the moaning but it’s amazing how spitting words onto a keyboard can help one process thoughts and feelings.  I do feel a bit better now!

My donor had nine eggs retrieved.  How wonderful.  She was crying when I walked in to see her in recovery.  I instantly thought something was wrong when I saw her red eyes.  She went to great lengths to pacify me and convince me they were tears of joy.  I believed her after a couple of minutes – it is quite an ordeal.

She did such a great job.  Really.  She recovered really quickly and was in such a good mood in the car on the way home; saying how good she felt.

Then tragedy struck.  She got a phone call on the way home that one of her precious little dogs had died (her two dogs are like her children; she loves them so much).  A heavy table had fallen on this poor little dog in wild winds and crushed it.  It had to be taken to the vet to get put to sleep.  Well, I felt just awful.  Just awful.  You can imagine … the only reason her dogs were at her friend’s house was because she was in Melbourne with me for the week – donating her eggs.  My goodness.  What could be done?  Needless to say there were many, many tears.

I’ll get two embryos transferred tomorrow (two day transfer) and the rest will be frozen.  When I go in for the transfer I’ll be told what the fertility rate was.  Let’s see how the donor sperm likes my niece’s eggs!  I’m sure the little embryos will be sooo cute!

I’m going to do home pregnancy tests because there is no way I can wait until the blood test without some kind of indication.  My chance of pregnancy is high and my chance of twins is also high … eek!  (secretly hoping for happy healthy twins please God). 

I am in such a happy/anxious/grateful mood ☼ yay ☼

Eight (8) follicles – not 12, not 14, not 18.

  • Here is where we remind ourselves that it’s all about quality, not quantity.
  • Here is where we remember that these are 23 year old eggs; not 41 year old eggs.
  • Here is where we consider that there should be a high fertilisation rate.

Positive thinking … that’s all I’ve got. 

I accompanied my niece to her nurses visit at the clinic yesterday.  I felt so darn bad/mean/helpless/useless/sad when I saw the little bruises on her little belly from the nasty needles.  Really!  I felt like such a USER!  It is very humbling. 

I feel so sorry for Andi.  I don’t know what I’ll do if this doesn’t work out.  I feel SO sorry for Andi.  I’m not even ready to imagine what it would be like to be in her position.  The poor girl’s situation has really jolted me into reality and so I am trying to be positive.  Andi, you have my best wishes.

First I had to give up hope of falling pregnant ‘naturally’.  Then I had to give up hope of using my husband’s sperm.  Then, I (finally, after a pretty good fight) gave up the hope of using my own eggs.  If I am destined to discover that even my donor’s eggs haven’t worked … wow!  Ouch.  I don’t know if I am ready to go there. 

Positive thinking … that’s all I’ve got today. 

I am also hoping and praying for the Evil Stepmonster, who has had an incredibly hard and long journey. She will find out her results in a few short days.