The Retrieval

If the abundant like of wit and creativity in the blog title didn't clue you in, today has been rough. I'm not witty, or creative, or really 100% here right now. I've been trapped in a sort of fog... cotton in my head and a lack of neurons successfully crossing the synaptic gap... that's been my day. But I wanted to get a post together to let everyone know that I'm alive and that thankfully I'm feeling better. I credit my long awaited for bowl of Rice Krispies for the improvements.

You may remember from May that I was terrified of the anesthesia needed for the laparoscopy. Like lose my mind once-and-for-all kind of terrified. And that surgery and the anesthesia ended up fine. I woke up, felt mostly normal, took a percocet because I was afraid of pain and slept for about 4 hours. Everything I did that day (drink ginger ale, eat saltines, take pain meds) was from fear of what could be rather than an actual need. So going in to today, I was nervous, but I kept telling myself if I can survive deep anesthesia and full intubation, I could survive this. Well, I survived and that's about all that can be said for the cocktail of meds they gave me today.

It was actually harder to wake up and stay awake. I fell back asleep EVERY TIME the stupid arm cuff released me and woke up EVERY TIME that stupid thing beeped and squeezed my arm. Ughhh. I hate that thing! Everyone told me I'd want to know how many eggs they got as soon as I woke up, but I had no idea why I was even there. Thankfully, I got my favorite nurse today and she was super sweet and let me be pitiful. I knew something was different about this medicine right away because I had the shakes really bad, like almost had to get a nurse to put on my underwear because I couldn't hold my arms steady. It was soooo weird. It's a terrible thing to feel like you can't control your limbs, like your motor skills have abandoned you.

We had to drive about forty-five minutes to the beach house (we left the hotel life behind thanks to some incredibly generous people). About 15 minutes in, I started to feel really dizzy and the beginnings of nausea. By the time we made it to St. Augustine, I was miserable, but just kept telling myself not to vomit. Sam stopped to grab himself some lunch and I just stayed in the car, afraid to move, with the door open and my head in my lap. He showed back up with his Chick-fil-A and I came so close to losing it all over the car. The smell was ungodly. I never thought Chick-fil-A could insight vomit, but apparently it's possible. Somehow I made it back to the house, but that's as far as I made it. Vomit fest ensued.  I never get sick and there was nothing in me (no food since 7pm last night), but my stomach pretended not to care. After that, I crashed. I was out from 12ish to 2:30 and then from 2:45 till sometime after 5. I could have slept longer, but I made myself get up and move. It was a good choice because I've felt much more normal since then. No real cramping, spotting, or pain to complain of. I would say I feel sensitive and a little sore, but no pain. It was just the cocktail of meds that did me in today.

My nurse did tell me how many eggs (13) multiple times during recovery. She explained that though they could see 18 follicles going into the procedure, several of mine were empty. I'm thankful I was capable of just nodding that I understood at that point. It wasn't until I got in the car with Sam (they never allowed him back to recovery) that I lost it. Once again, I fully recognize that I should be over the moon with 13, but I'm not. I was (apparently) really expecting 20 eggs. Even when our follicle counts were lower than expected, so many people assured me that there are always hidden follicles, that I'd get more. Unfortunately, that's not always the case. Sometimes you get less. Thirteen obviously is the number of eggs, not necessarily mature eggs... the retrieval doctor mentioned to Sam that he was expecting around 10 mature. I spent the last three months researching and praying about what I should do with 20+ eggs. How many should I freeze as eggs, as pronuclear, as day 2, as day 5... none of that matters anymore. We obviously fertilized all of the eggs.

To say that I am disappointed would be an understatement. I go back and forth between feeling like I let us down, like my body didn't perform up to its capabilities and feeling robbed, like the protocol and the doses just didn't get what my body could offer. One moment I'm mad at myself for failing to perform and the next I'm mad that the doctors were unwilling to push me. This was supposed to be our one and only egg retrieval... one and done, that was our deal. The doubts are already creeping in though and I can hear myself making excuses for why we should try just one more time.

Despite being bummed about the retrieval, I actually am really thankful... I know that sounds weird, disappointed and thankful at the same time, but that's how I feel. Thankful to have 13 eggs that might be mature, that might fertilize successfully, that might grow and multiply well, and that might lead to a bring home baby. It's more than we've ever had before. Today we are closer than we've been in a long, long time to our dream, and for that I'm very thankful.

Obviously, my sadness and happiness teeter on a very narrow divide... everything (for now) hinges on the fertilization report. Speaking of which, I won't hear anything tomorrow. Which is crazy. I've never heard of not receiving a fertilization report the day after retrieval. Instead, my clinic gives a report on  day 2, Saturday. They kind of combine fertilization report and transfer recommendation into one day. Saturday, I'll hear how many fertilized, how they're doing, and whether they recommend a  day-3 or a day-5 transfer. It's going to be a looonnnnggg time until Saturday morning.

However, if all goes according to plan, I should have a pretty nice distraction tomorrow. Sam surprised me with this news: We're going to Disney World! Ahhhhhh! People, I'm not sure if I can adequately explain my love for Disney World.... like I could have gotten married there if my husband didn't think it was stupid... like I would happily have honeymooned there... like I ordered the vacation planning DVDs when we'd been dating for about a year to try to convince Sam that we desperately needed to go. Unfortunately, Sam doesn't share my over the top love of all things Disney. He always said we'd go once we have kids. Well people, stop the presses, but if all went well today... we've got kids. Granted, they haven't even begun cellular division, but whatever, if that distinction is enough to get me in the gates of Disney, I'll take it. I'm really hoping I feel up to it tomorrow. My nurse said I could return to normal activity tomorrow... I'm not sure if that includes the Magic Kingdom, but I really hope so!