Having a Blast.

January 24, 2011 at 4:31 pm | Posted in IVF #4: I'm STILL doing this? | 15 Comments

(Can’t take credit for that – my witty title courtesy of my friend D, who told me just before I left for the transfer to “have a blast!”)


I felt TONS better by Friday evening, and by Saturday night I felt nearly normal. My abdomen is still a little tender, but I was able to resume my normal activities (i.e. chasing after a toddler).

I also lost 4lbs between Thursday and Saturday, so that really helped.

So really, I am a wimp, and I had a mild case of OHSS. Which resolved very quickly.

And we had our transfer today.

It’s kind of sad.

We are so far past the days where a transfer means nervous excitement, where we looked at the picture of the embryo -OUR baby beginning – and dreamed of what sort of baby we’d have.

Now? We toss the picture in my purse, along with the “How Not To Go Crazy During Your 2WW” handout they give us and the post-transfer instructions.

We know that we’ll go into the transfer about an hour late.

And so – I know EXACTLY how much to drink in order to ensure that I’m not too uncomfortable by the time we actually get to walk back to the transfer room.

We know the nurses by sight, and the receptionist knows me by name.

And today, when a couple came out of the transfer room arm in arm, smiling with hope?

I rolled my eyes…

… while J muttered “newbies.”

This, my friends, is how we know we’re done with ART. And our clinic.

Today’s blast was graded a 3BB. Which is lower quality than our frosties – November’s blast was graded 4AA.

Doesn’t mean it CAN’T work.

But I’m not going to hold my breath.

But J said it best when we came out of the clinic today. He said, sort of bitterly:

I hope we NEVER have to come back here EVER AGAIN.

Me too, babe. Me too.



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  1. Fingers crossed.

  2. I remember losing that sense of hope and optimism. Actually, I think it just took one failed IUI to turn me into a skeptic. After that, I never expected anything to work. My youngest daughter is the product of five IVFs and nothing but supremely crappy embryos. We never made it to blast…even my one day SIX transfer was a sad little morula. But my crappy embryo became a beautiful baby. I really have stopped listening to the grade of the embryos because there so often seems to be little relation to success rate.

    At any rate, though I never could hold out much optimism for myself, I’m holding plenty of it for you. I hope that you never do have to walk back into that transfer room again and that your last visits to the clinic are filled with happy ultrasounds, graduation, and perhaps a trip back to drop off baby pictures, but nothing more.

  3. Good luck! Probability is a funny thing that way… sometimes it works.

  4. Nobody wants the RE office to be like the Cheers bar. Because really, it signifies failure more than success.

    Success. Which you have had, which you kiss each night, and hug each morning. The End will justify the means. I promise.

  5. I sure hope this little one makes something big of himself/herself!

  6. Not a wimp. That OHSS really kicks you around! Also, there’s the worry about how bad it’s going to get, which nobody can say until it’s over. You’ve definitely lost your shiny, though, no doubt about that. Hopefully your wish comes true.


  7. So glad you are feeling better and that the OHSS is resolving.

    I had the same reaction with our last transfer…and that was only my second round of IVF. But I was so done- with being there, with going through the routine, with getting my hopes up.

    Then I took those two dollar store HPTs and got negatives both times, and I actually tried to rip up the photo they gave us of the moment of transfer…the paper wouldn’t rip. So I threw it back on my desk to deal with “later”…and later that day the clinic rang with the news of our bfp.

    Honestly, sometimes I think not really caring/being emotionally invested helps.

    Everything is crossed for you, m’dear.


  8. I hate all those happy smiley couples that have hope. How horrible of me.

    I hope you never have to go there again, too!!

  9. I have my fingers crossed, too.

  10. Oh, me too J, me too!!!

  11. Hoping you never have to go back there again either! Good luck!

  12. Wow, Serenity. I have so much to say but perhaps I’ll sum it up by saying “una la volta” (one thing at a time). I hope the 2ww passes quickly on your way to your BFP.

    (How many do you have to freeze? Did I miss an update somewhere)?

  13. Thinking of you and praying for a good outcome!

  14. I hope you never do either!!!


  15. I am so glad for D in your life..seriously, I hope you smiled when she said it. LOL

    I am holding hope and thinking of you…and wishing away that 2WW for a BFP

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