Today is the day of the Frozen Embryos Transfer.
In the morning the embryologist thaws two of our 3 frozen embryos. Our finger’s are crossed that they will survive the defrosting. Approximately 30% of frozen embryos fail when they are thawed. All we can do is wait.
6 hours later, at the clinic, the embryologist shows us pictures of our embryos. They look like little bubbles. Sarah, who has a lovely smiling manner about her, informs us that one of the embryos looks good and she rates it a B/C but the other one, which on closer inspection looks like a scab, is not so good. It is slow at rehydrating. It appears we have a slow simple non-performing embryo. She asks us what we want to do. Do we want to transfer both or just plant one and then defrost the other and transfer that tomorrow. Of course if we defrost the last one we wont have any left for another cycle. Big decisions.
I ask for her to explain in statistical terms. If we go ahead with the B/C one we have approximately 15% chance of success, she says, if we also transfer the simple one, that may increase our chances by 1%, essentially the second embryo is a very very long shot.
15%. Fifteen-f*cking-percent. Its hard to take in. All this effort, drama, emotional turmoil for a 15% chance. After 6 months and over £6000 we are down to one embryo with average grades and a predicted 15% chance. If I was playing poker I would fold. It is incredibly depressing. Iza looks shell-shocked.
We elect to wait an hour to see if the slow embryo, who we now christen Viennetta, makes any progress, and then we will decide.
We go for a tea and sit quietly as we try and digest the odds. Its hard to remain positive when the odds are so against you.
Its all so complicated this babymaking. Technical. Statistical. Medical. It’s at times like this that I wonder what we are doing. Gambling thousands of pounds on the equivalent of three legged horses
As expected, after an hour there is no progress on the second embryo, The defrosting of Vienetta has failed.
We decide to maximise our chances and implant B?C graded Twister and defrost Magnum tomorrow.
Now its transfer time..
A full bladder is required for the procedure as the pressure of the bladder helps straighten the uterus and makes the insertion of the catheter easier. Iza wanted the sexy senior doctor to do the procedure but he is not available for 20 minutes. She has consumed 2 litres of water and is ready to burst. She can’t hold on any longer, not even for Dr Sexy. So we go with the junior doctor, who appears to be very competent although thankfully doesn’t have the chiselled chin.
Iza is manoeuvred into position and her legs spread in stirrups. She plugs in her ipod.
I ask her who she is listening to. “SNOOPY DOGG” she shouts.
I lift up her earphone. “Darling you don’t need to shout.”
The nurse and doctor scrub up. The main light is switched off and an intense spotlight lamp, that resembles something used in an interrogation, is shone at her nether regions.
The doctor studies intently.
Her pussy has never had so much attention. Well not from me anyway.
The interrogation spotlight reflects off the sinister array of metal clamps on the nurse’s tray. I am reminded of the screen in Marathon Man where the Nazi dentist, played by Laurence Olivier, interrogates Dustin Hoffman. At this moment if I was my wife’s genitalia I would have broken down, wept and revealed all my secrets.
But Iza is oblivious to it all. Eyes shut she is listening to her ipod.
I stand next to her in my green medical scrubs holding her hand and doing my best George Clooney impression, failing miserably.
A nurse scans her stomach and the doctor slowly threads a tube up her uterine cavity using the scan to help guide him.
Iza, lost in music, doesn’t flinch.
The air is full of silence and concentration, and the smell of antiseptic. And now something more unpleasant and recognisable. The nurse almost gags.
“SORRY I’VE FARTED” shouts my beloved.
I try to suppress my giggles.
“Don’t worry it happens” says the doctor, smooth as ice.
The procedure is successful one embryo is transferred to the lining of the womb. Now its home to rest and back tomorrow, hopefully, to transfer the second one.
Thanks for posting this inspiring read. Visit mine!
I went through this a couple of months ago. I came to this post looking to see if you had the same reaction my husband did when he saw the pictures of the embryos in the dish. Each big bubble had a little bubble attached and he said “Baby’s first fart!”
Ha, ha, last reply makes me laugh a lot. thank you Alex