Tuesday/ transfer day, was a good day. Which is such a relief because it can be fraught with difficulties and anxieties.
My gorgeous husband had the whole day off to join me for the transfer, to drive me to my appointments and then to look after me in the afternoon.
Firstly I had an appointment with Dr. Doug my acupuncturist at 8.15am. They came in early just so I could have acupuncture and then get to the IVF clinic in time. It was great, it helped calm my growing anxiety. A night of little sleep and the vague nerves of ‘what if’s’, it was good to just take the time to relax and breathe. After the acupuncture he massaged my legs and feet while a vibrating massage machine rested on my belly – sounds a little kooky but I guess it stimulates blood flow. I then put my feet on some little metal plates and held 2 little metal bars that hooked up to the electric pulse machine while Dr. Doug massaged my back. He assured me there was a science behind this (science fiction my husband would say), that it helped to get my chi flowing through my body. It felt good and I left feeling happy and calm.
We arrived at the IVF clinic right on time. My husband is hilarious and always makes lots of jokes, even more so at the clinic. I think it’s his way of lightening the situation and of keeping me smiling. Not everyone has a sense of humour though and that just makes things even funnier, so we giggled through the whole process.
Starting from when the nurse looked at my file – “‘oh allergic to Sulphur drugs – well no need to worry – no one will be going near you with sulphur today.’ Husband – “unless of course the embryo is the devils spawn”. Me – “well it is from you!” Nurse – wan smile.
Our embryo had defrosted well, we are lucky – so far they always have.
In the transfer room a different nurse tells me to disrobe form the waist down and hop up into the chair. MY husband hops up onto the chair (yes he is a child, and I wouldn’t have it any other way) The nurse looks bewildered and he tells her – “we thought we’d try swapping it around for a while” as I slap him on the arm and shoo him out of the chair.
Legs up, dignity aside. The doctor’s voice from the other side of the curtain – “knock, knock”. My husband – “who’s there?”. Luckily the doctor has a sense of humour, laughs and smiles as he sticks his head between my legs. My husband wonders if when he get down there he thinks ‘ahhh yes now I remember this patient’.
So a bit of shuffling with the ultrasound – my bladder is nice and full (tell me about it – I am dying to go to the bathroom!) so the uterus is shoved back out of view a little. Insert the catheter thingo then in shoots the embryo. It is so quick, weird, uncomfortable but SO quick. It’s amazing really.
Then back to Dr. Doug for more acupuncture. Relaxing. And just to add to the silliness of the day I need to leave the acupuncture pin in my head for 24 hours. Yes, there were lots of jokes at home that night about tv reception.
I spent the rest of the day relaxing, dozing. And the following day. I am lucky that my boss is understanding and caring.
Now I’ve been back at work for 2 days. It’s hard to concentrate and I feel tired. This waiting part is truly so difficult.
What’s going on in there??? Are you sticking in little embie?
Am I tired and a bit seedy because it’s working or is that just my brain playing little tricks?
I’d really like this to be the one – because this whole process is soooo tiring and draining.
I recently got a gig writing for the great music/culture/etc magazine Death + Taxes. I’ve already written a few articles that are on the website if you take the time to mosey around on it. One of the interesting ones can be found HERE, and it’s a fairly savvy way to get acupuncture on a very small budget. They have a “Happy Hour” about once a month, and it had some incredible effects on my state of mind for only $10 (it woulda been just $5 if I brought a friend!). That’s less than the price of a movie ticket, or two beers or whatever comparison you might make.
As I entered the waiting room and called her name, I was shocked by the person who stood up to greet me. She couldn’t be much beyond my thirty odd years of age. Laura* was tall, beautiful and impeccably dressed. She beamed a welcoming smile like she was seeing an old friend despite the association she had with acupuncture, an adjunct therapy as she underwent chemotherapy and radiation for one of the most aggressive types of breast cancer. Immediately upon greeting her she spoke of how acupuncture ‘was the thing that got her through the chemotherapy and radiation treatments.’ Both believers and skeptics of acupuncture alike can easily equate tremendous value to any practice that provides a person with the internal strength to face life’s greatest obstacles, equivalent in nature to Buddhist chanting of Nam-Myo-Renge-Kyo to fortify one’s resolve.