IVF Part Two: The IVF Procedure

Part Two : The Procedure

When we arrived at the clinic we were shown to our room. I had a 1.30ish appointment for my surgery and so we settled in to wait for someone to come and get me when the time was right. It had been explained to me that although it’s a straightforward procedure, sometimes it can take longer with some women and so the time allocated for me was a guideline. I had to lose hubby for a while whilst he disappeared to ‘do his bit’ into a container, and when he returned we had a giggle about how surreal this all is.

Now I have to explain at this point that I suffer with panic attacks and anxiety, and a new experience, something I haven’t done before, can set me off in to a panic. Well my nerves were utterly shot to pieces on this day. I had full on adrenalin coursing through me, I was sweating and struggling to take breaths. My coping methods are to breathe in for four…and out for four, as this helps to regulate my oxygen levels. I also know that I should keep moving to burn off the adrenalin. So picture this: I am wearing that attractive surgical gown with my bum peeking out the back, jogging on the spot and huffing in and out with a red and flustered face! My hubby did find it amusing. I, on the other hand, thought I was going to die! Please note though that the second IVF experience was a breeze, no anxiety at all 🙂

Annoyingly I didn’t go into surgery until about 3pm and by the time the nurse came for me I thought ‘I can’t do this! I’m going to collapse! My head is about to explode!’ etc..etc.. but the nurses are used to nutcase women so she calmly walked me downstairs to theatre. As soon as I entered theatre…..I relaxed. There’s something about being in the hands of others that just chills me out, and I no longer had to worry. My aneasthetist was an angel; a wonderful man whose main purpose in life at that moment was to make me happy and content. I laid back as people moved around beside me and just thought ‘ok, here we go’. Then I was told that I would start to feel sleepy and before I knew it, I had the most amazingly relaxing drift into sleep I have ever experienced! It was like a big warm hand picks you up and cuddles you off to dreamworld. My main advice to anyone concerned about the surgery is….it will be absolutely fine, in fact you may look back on it fondly x

When I came to, I was fine. Drowsy, dopey, slow and talking utter crap, but absolutely fine. I think I kind of chatted up the porter who wheeled me back to my room.

‘Who are you?’ I slur.

‘Simon’ he replies with a smile.

‘Oooooh my husband is called Simon! This is an omen! You must be a wonderful person to have such a wonderful name! Where are we? Who are you again?’ and so on..

When back in my room, hubby and I both check the back of my hand as we’d been told this is where they would write how many eggs they had retrieved. We looked. We saw. It was 12!!! A fantastic number, very positive. I immediately tried to text people this information, not really knowing what I was doing and who I was texting, and so had a few replies of ‘bakers dozen’ and ‘what eggs? from where?’ and ‘football team it is then’. Then I had to call my daughter who told me later that I sounded completely drunk.

Now I hadn’t eaten since 9am and so my next advice to you is to ORDER EVERYTHING THEY OFFER YOU IN ADVANCE. You will be ravenous! After eating and the nurses making sure that I have had a wee (exciting!) I was allowed home. I can honestly say that I was not in any discomfort that day or evening and that I was pampered beyond belief by hubby (he’s a gem).

The next day however, things start to feel a little more real. My tummy was swollen and actually looked quite comical, and I had ‘period pain’ type symptoms. This was a tad unpleasant but be assured that it really doesn’t last long, a couple of days at most. We waiting for the phone call from the clinic that would tell us how many had fertilised. We waited…and waited…and then it came. 11 out of the 21 had fertilised!!! OMG!! We were ecstatic! More texting and more phone calls to close friends and family (plus a few more who had found out yesterday due to my appallingly drugged up texting session).

The day after that, I had to return for ET (Egg Transfer) and this didn’t bring any anxiety at all funnily enough. The whole cycle had been good, the eggs collected had been plentiful and over 90% had fertilised. It was all looking so positive. Until…. we arrived at the clinic.

We had already asked for 2 eggs to be put back in and when we met our Consultant we were all smiles knowing that there was a good amount of choice. He however, was rather reserved, as were the other nurses and we definitely noticed a sombre mood in the air. We were told that the eggs ‘weren’t great’ and were ‘average at best’ but they would obviously use the best ones possible. Something wasn’t right and so I pushed for more information. And I really had to push as no-one wanted to give me a straightforward answer. I later found out that my eggs were ‘fragmented more than was normal’ and this indicated that they wouldn’t have much of a chance of implantation. They were passed their sell by date is how I look at it 😦 Although they did say that you can just never tell, and it didn’t mean that it wouldn’t work, just that it didn’t look promising right now, Still that vibe in the air was loud and clear.

The ET procedure is basically the same as a smear test; a bit uncomfortable but over quickly enough.

When we left the clinic we had mixed emotions. We knew that at that precise moment I was carrying our 2 fertilised little wanna-be-babies and this was as far as we’d ever been! We also knew that 2 long weeks loomed ahead of us before we could even do a pregnancy test, and we also knew that the clinic didn’t hold much hope for us. I didn’t want to move. I walked like I was a robot, doing slow turns and trying not to bend in the middle. But we were together, and we took each day one at a time.


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