The waiting is unbearable. We were supposed to hear something about the remaining 5 eggs today: whether they fertilized or not. Like good patients, we waited until 4 PM to call our RE’s office– just like our release paperwork said to do if we hadn’t heard from them by then. I just called the nurse on call. Apparently the lab didn’t send her a report on us today. She couldn’t tell me if this meant that we didn’t get any more embryos or if they just forgot about us. They don’t do reports on Sunday, but since I made friends with the embryologist on Thursday, I’m actually going to call her tomorrow. I wish I had called her earlier. I just didn’t want to abuse the privilege of the phone number she secreted to me. STUPID!
During the wait between the first and second embryo reports on my IVF cycle last year, Vanessa and I took walks in the park while we fantasized about the surely impending pregnancy. We strategized how long we would keep the excess embryos frozen and what we wanted to do with them when we were done having kids. We talked about my maternity leave. We never imagined the disappointment that lay just one short day away.
As the hours grow longer, hope dwindles. If I close my eyes, it’s a hot July day and I’m looking at my vegetable garden when that terrible phone call comes through. Nurse Lunch Lady asks me to call Vanessa outside and have a seat. I clutch the arms of a lawn chair as she explains to me that all of our embryos have arrested and that there will be nothing to transfer, that all of it has been for nothing.
IVF is such a mind fuck. Yesterday morning I was overflowing with joy at the thought of 4 healthy embryos and 5 possible others. This afternoon, they are all crumbling to dust in my head. Vanessa’s suddenly doing worse. We don’t think she has OHSS, but she has a lot of free fluid in her body. She’s all bloated and has sore shoulders and sharp abdominal pain. She’s in pain, and it might all be for nothing again.