The Unexpected.June 6, 2012 at 1:37 pm | Posted in IVF #6: Quiet Hope | 14 Comments
We’ve done something like eight transfers.
I think. Honestly, I don’t know, I’ve lost count. I know that alphabetically, we’re up to Q and R in letters of the alphabet for naming embryos, and we’ve done, on average 1.85 a transfer.
That makes roughly eight.
So when New Clinic told me to come in for a mock transfer this morning, I figured, whatever, I’d be in and out, no biggie. Even told the doctor who was doing it (not mine) that the catheter always seemed to go to the right side of my uterus.
Then lay down, bladder perfectly full, and waited for him to insert the catheter.
When he asked me, Has anyone told you that the opening to your cervix is really narrow? I was a little taken aback.
There had been a few times where Dr HIT had trouble getting a catheter in – most noticeably on my last sonohystogram. He asked for three different catheters before he was able to get it in, and told me that I WAS going to spot.
That was awful, and I cramped and bled for a few days.
But for transfers? Maybe a couple of times, but I thought that was NORMAL. No one mentioned that I had a tough cervix there.
After a couple of minutes of trying, the doctor working on me told me, Let me see if I can find your doctor.
And left to find her.
And she came in shortly, apologizing for wearing jeans. I’m supposed to be on vacation, she said. She looked too, and told me, I can’t even thread a 1mm catheter in there without disturbing your cervix too much.
And then she told me to sit up.
As I did, she explained that at New Clinic, they don’t like to disrupt the cervix too much at transfer, because it can cause cramping and spotting. And data she has suggests that spotting and bleeding related to cervical disruption might be correlated with lower success rates on a per cycle basis.
Well, that’s not good, I said.
So she suggested a hysteroscopy, with insertion of a catheter (of which the name escapes me, of course, but it started with a M). The catheter would remain in my uterus for 7 days, allowing my cervix to close but not as tightly as it’s closed right now. Which then would allow a transfer catheter to go right on it when it’s time, without cramping or bleeding, or having to muscle it in, as others must have done before now.
Apparently this sort of thing is good for a few months after the procedure, too, so if this didn’t work and we did FETs or whatever, I wouldn’t have to do it again for a bit. And given that I’m BCPs right now, the time is ripe for this to happen. Get the catheter in, take it out next week, get AF, start stims. Perfect timing.
So, uh. I go in for the procedure tomorrow. 3pm. In the operating room, because this is done under general anesthesia.
While they’re in there, the doctor will take a look at the top of my Ute to see if there’s any worrisome remnants of Monster Septum, and do an endometrial biopsy, too.
I’ve scrambled to get Lucky looked after in the afternoon, and thank goodness my best friend can pick him up from school. Because, you know. General anesthesia means Charlie has to be there and drive me home afterwards.
And then? Friday morning I get to go on a plane, catheter in my uterus, and head to my cousin’s wedding.
The last time I had a catheter inside my uterus, it was right after my septum resection and by the sixth day it bothered me so much I called to get it taken out early.
Can’t say I’m looking forward to this, especially since we’re traveling until next WEDNESDAY. Which means I can’t call and get the damn thing out early.
Not to mention the fact that I likely won’t be able to run or swim in the 7 days I have the damn thing inside my uterus.
But hell, if it’s what my doctor thinks might help our chances, fine, we’ll do it. This definitely falls along the lines of my motto: Do everything possible, right?
Because the last time I had a catheter in?
The very next transfer, I got pregnant with Lucky.
Do everything possible.