“You’re basically a minivan…”

Hi kids.

It was another big day in the HopelesslyTTC/HopefullyTCC household just a couple of days ago…ET day.

I was all set to write a post playing on the “back on board the Mother Ship” idea, even told your mom about it on Thursday morning at 04:00 – yeh, we’re not sleeping so well at the moment with all this excitement going on…This post was going to be headed something like this:

Captains Log 529: Blast off from Planet Zygote, somewhere in the Morula system

Then I was going to go on about it being called “ET” for different reasons than we thought – more “phone home” than “embryo transfer”…but I’ve changed my mind…

I’ll give it to you straight…this is what happened on Thursday.

In a nutshell, we transferred three embies back into your mom…yup, all three…I’ve told you before that we don’t do things by halves…we had three developing, so we put three back…no waste no mess no fuss.

We got to the clinic nice and early, were shown through to the ward and then taken through to the IVF theatre. I got to accompany your mom this time, which was pretty cool. Your mom was all spruced up in her sexy hospital gown, dressing gown, boot socks and slippers again, while all that was required of me was for me to try and don the little slipper thingymabob’s – note to all guys with size 12 feet (or bigger) – don’t wear boots on the day and you’ll probably have to take your shoes off to get these elasticated booties on your feet – just another example of “1 size fits all” not really being the case.

When your mom was suitably ensconced on the theatre table/bed, the embryologist emerged from the adjoining IVF lab and proceeded to give us the details, explaining what was about to happen as well as how they rate embies. She showed us a big poster showing the initial stages of human development, from oocytes (eggs and sperm) through to foetus. She explained how our three embies were doing…

Basically, the two embies that were ahead when we’d last spoken to the lab the day before (the ones I’d named ‘Blodge’ & ‘Splodge’), had remained slightly ahead. They were at 7/8 cells each and they’d given them a rating of 4 out of 5 on their scale (with 5 being perfect)…so they were very happy with them. The third embie (who I’d named ‘Runty’ the day before) was still lagging behind at 6 cells, but was also showing signs of fragmentation – which isn’t great. She never gave us Runty’s scoring on their embie quality scale (which we didn’t take as a good sign!).

We asked some questions and she advised us that for a patient of your mom’s age, they would normally put no more than 3 embies back, but that 3 was what they would ideally aim for. We asked her about the chances of a triplet pregnancy if we put them all back and she said the chances were small (although there is a chance). Your mom and I took one look at each other and agreed unanimously to put them all back – like a clichéd NAM movie – no-one was being left behind on this mission!!

The Prof arrived shortly thereafter, and after a short discussion agreed that putting all three back was the way to go. He answered a few more questions and then it was down to business.

It was then that I got the most incredible experience on an incredible day…the embryologist kindly put the embies on the microscope and I got to see all three of them on the screen…how many parents can say they got to see their children when they were less than 8 cells big!

When I read that viewing the embies before transfer might be possible, I thought about it and planned to make some flippant comment if this opportunity arose – I pictured turning to your mom and saying something like “…oh my goodness, they’ve got your eyes”, or nose or chin or something…but at the actual moment of looking at the screen, all previous thoughts fled and I was entirely caught up in the moment. Damn, I hate missing the chance for a funny remark!

Blodge and Splodge looked absolutely perfect – just like the diagram she’d shown us a few minutes earlier. Nice and clear. Runty was’t quite as big and even to my untrained eye, I could see what they meant by ‘fragmentation’ – like there was some other ‘bits and pieces’ within the embie…not sure what it is or what causes it, but it was obvious to see.

So, Prof placed all three embies into your mom’s womb – we even got to see the little flash on the screen as they were injected in – pretty cool stuff really.

And that was it, back to the ward to lay down for an hour (your mom that is not me), off to the nurse for the next batch of drugs, and then home to rest.

Of course, for the sake of keeping your mom’s secrets (and her modesty), I won’t tell you about the bladder debacle. Other than to say she didn’t listen to the nurses instructions and overdid the water drinking in the morning (you see you need to have a full bladder for the procedure)…so your mom was practically writhing in agony by the time she got to theatre. Her bladder was so full that the Prof couldn’t do a damn thing until he’d catheterised her and released some of the contents – nothing like holding you wife’s hand while some guy is sitting between her legs and she’s having a pee, with two other people watching…Still, for your mom, having three other people around while she has a pee is small time – it would be cruel of me to tell you about the time she had a pee into a coke bottle at the Prince’s Trust Concert in the middle of Hyde Park – only 100,000 people around her that time…so two nurses and a professor was nothing!!

We’ve been taking it easy since Thursday, trying to give those embies every chance to settle in for the long haul. I pat your mom’s lower tummy every night before we go to sleep, hoping to make them feel welcome. Your mom’s started calling me ‘Big Daddy’ and I’ve started calling her ‘Minivan’.

You may think this a strange name, but it comes from one of the West Wing episodes (and we LOVE the West Wing).

In the episode called “The California 47th”, whilst on Air Force One, Toby Ziegler discovers his pregnant ex-wife is on board, much to his dismay. He says to her something like “…You’ve got twins in there. You’re basically a minivan. Also, how are you fitting into a seat?”

Your mom’s ‘the minivan’ with three passengers on board…buckle up and enjoy the ride…

~ by HopelesslyTTC on 18/07/2010.

6 Responses to ““You’re basically a minivan…””

  1. The idea of actually having triplets has me running for the hills, but I’m told parents manage that if need be. But it’s too soon to worry about that. Or too late, depending on how you look at it.

    Fingers crossed!

  2. I’m so pathetic that I recognised Toby’s voice as soon as I saw the title of this post. 🙂 Bestest of luck, and I hope you are both dealing with the waiting OK!

    • ‘Pathetic’…I hope not…otherwise we’re in the same boat…we own all 7 seasons on DVD and have watched them I don’t know how many times!! Busy working through them yet again – already at season 5 again. Even though I know a good line is coming, it still makes me laugh/cry/grin/whatever…such great scripts – I wish I could write like Aaron Sorkin does (and the guys who took over from him when he left). After The West Wing, all other TV programs seem dull and boring…
      But, I don’t want to make it too obvious how big a nerd I am, so I’ll stop gushing now…
      The waiting hasn’t been too bad till now…but I can feel the pressure slowly rising again……………

      • We have all 7 seasons on DVDas well; we would pre-order each season from Amazon UK as they were always released there first. I live in Australia, and it was soooo frustrating as when it was being broadcast by commercial networks they had not respect for West Wing fans and would switch and change the time it was broadcast constantly. Finally the national broadcaster took it on, but by they we already had the DVDs of each system. I refuse to call myself a nerd – or a geek (although I work in IT and am accused of this all the time) – however I’m known to start laughing about a line before it even comes. Yes, the writing is sooo good. To be able to be serious, and though provoking, and entertaining, AND funny. . .

  3. Good luck! x

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