Wasting away again in Margaritaville

Like most other things in my life, the retrieval turned out to be something that I should have spent MUCH less time stressing over. You see, I'm somewhat neurotic and I like to think things to death, imagining every horrifying possibility. It never occurs to me that I should imagine every favorable outcome instead. No, no, no...I like to worry myself practically to death.

So, you can imagine the state I was in when it came time to trigger on Tuesday night. I must have checked my watch a million times to make sure that it was exactly 9:30. After D assured me that it was, in fact, 9:30 on the nose, he injected me with the infamous Trigger Shot. I was pleased that it was subcutaneous and quite painless. He injected it in the stomach on the same side as my "good" ovary. No problem.

The next morning, I had a pre-op appointment with my IVF nurse. After we sat down in one of the exam rooms, he pulled out all of these notes and a big bag of needles (which I will supossedly need for my PIO injections). I tried to ignore the needles, but I just couldn't help but stare at them and think Holy Shit! Those things are Huge! They are going to Hurt! While I was obsessing, he was relaying important information about my other meds, how to handle constipation, how we can't have sex any more until they tell us, how much bed rest they recommend, etc. Of course, my preoccupation with the huge needles won out and I only heard about half of what he said. Thankfully, he handed me some typed out instructions that reiterated everything he had just told me. Whew.

I spent the rest of the day Wednesday feeling nauseous, probably from nerves. I took a shower and shaved and moisturized that night, since I wasn't permitted to on Retrieval Morning. I finally fell asleep and stayed that way until the alarm went off at 6:30am. Woke up, put my favorite yoga pants on, grabbed some granola bars and peanuts for D in case he got hungry while waiting and left for the RE office.

We gave ourselves plenty of time to get there, which was a good thing since traffic was ridiculous that morning. We still managed to get there early, so D decided to stop at the convenience store for something to drink. As we're pulling into the lot, another guy was flying backwards out of his parking spot. He was coming right for us. I tried to scream "Honk the horn!" but nothing came out...Instead I reached over and honked it myself. Thank God he stopped...I really did NOT need to deal with a fender bender at that moment.

So, with all major accidents averted, we headed over to the clinic. We signed the forms, showed our ID and then we were whisked away to our appropriate stations. While D was upstairs doing his thing, the anesthesiologist came in to put my iv into my hand. Honestly, this was the only part that hurt. My hands are thin and pretty small, so it took several pricks with the needle before he got it in. Once that was through, D came in to join me in my curtained off room. He then proceeded to tell me the titles of the porns he saw, the most disturbing being "I love big things!" which showed women playing with giant dildos. Gross.

After I was introduced to the doctor who would be performing the retrieval, I was allowed to go empty my bladder one last time ( I pee a lot when I'm nervous) and then was whisked down to the retrieval room. They put me on a table that looked a lot like the same kind of table pregnant women lay on to deliver. The stirrups went up behind your knees instead of at your feet. This allowed for maximum viewing pleasure of all my girly bits to the three nurses, the doctor, the embryologist and the anesthesiologist.

The anesthesiologist fiddled with something to my left and said In a minute, You're going to feel like you've had one too many margaritas. I smiled at this, because I REALLY like margaritas. Then, the doctor inserted the speculum and then proceded to give me the hugest douche of my life. I don't know what he used, a fire hose perhaps? but whatever it was gushed water into my stuff to get it super clean before the procedure. The anesthesiologist then asked Are you feeling those margaritas yet? and this is when I started to panic because I was NOT feeling anything yet, not even a wine cooler. So, I said I don't feel any different!...and that was the last thing I remember.

It was one of the better sleeps I have had in a long time. I was actually sort of pissed off when they woke me up in the recovery room. But, when I came too, the first thing I remember them saying was that they retrieved 10. 10 eggs! I was thrilled with the news. Went home and spent the rest of the day napping, then got in another 10 hours of sleep last night. Apparently, all that worrying can really wear a girl out. The added bonus was that I had very little pain. Just some light spotting and light cramps, like the kind I get on the 2nd or 3rd day of my period. Never needed the Vicodin they prescribed or the heating pad I had waiting next to my bed. Just a couple of Tylenol and I was fine.

This morning, my IVF nurse called with the fertilization report. They had to ICSI 9 of the 10 eggs. I'm not sure why, as all of D's sperm analyses have always been stellar. The nurse said they hope for a 50% fertilization rate. Of my 10 eggs, 8 fertilized. He praised me and called me an overachiever. I felt so relieved.

So, I'm starting to feel better about this whole process. It's been so stressful up til now with all the shots, the constant appointments and wandings, the retrieval. I feel like I'm finally in the home stretch and that is comforting to me. Whether it works or it doesn't, I can at least be proud of myself for even attempting to go through this process. Honestly, I never thought I'd have the strength or the courage. Keeping my fingers crossed for another positive phone call from my IVF nurse on Sunday.