Den and I are having a disagreement over when to take a pregnancy test. My beta – the definitive blood test – is set for December 26th. It should have been December 25th, going by dates, but of course that happens to be Christmas Day. So I get to wait an extra day.

Den wants to wait. We are happy now, hopeful… he wants to just live in a state of suspended belief through Christmas. He wants to rest in the knowledge of what could be, instead of having to deal with what amounts to a loss, a great sadness, on a day that is time spent with family. Especially since we don’t want to tell all the family right away – it’s easier to give vague answers when you yourself don’t even know.

And that all does make sense to me, in a way. I do understand where he’s coming from, not wanting to ruin the day with bad news. But I don’t think I can do that.

First of all I have to work both on December 24 and 26th. I really don’t want to have to deal with customers all day after such momentous news – good or bad. If it’s bad news I’d prefer to go and have a good cry; if it’s good news I’m going to be bouncing off the walls and not wanting to just sit there with no internet all day.

I could test Tuesday, but the likelihood of actually getting an accurate answer that day is pretty slim. Possible, but it certainly wouldn’t be conclusive.

But there is a much bigger reasoning to my desire to test on Christmas Day, far more than convenience.

You see, Christmas has always been my favorite holiday. I’m an athiest, and as a teenager I strongly rebelled against any hint of any religion – except for Christmas. It has always been sacred in my mind. Christmas morning I would sneak out of my bed to plug in the lights on the tree and just sit on the living room floor, basking in the glow off all of the presents. I loved spending that time with my family, always opening our stockings first, eating chocolates and nuts from our stocking stuffers while passing out gifts, surrounded by ripped wrapping paper and bows, the dog nudging through each pile in the hopes that another bone would be buried in there somewhere. There was a feeling of utter contentment that only ever came about that one day a year. It was the perfect day.

Last Christmas we flew home to Canada, me with my almost-third-trimester belly, Devin nestled safely inside. I woke up early, as usual, giddy, thilled to be sharing this special year with my family. It was just like old times, except my husband was there too, and I was carrying a baby – a very special baby, long awaited and much rejoyced. I was so happy. I sat in front of the lights and the presents, the wrapping paper and the dogs, just like I’d always done, and I felt such joy at the future.

A year has passed. But my house is not decorated with Christmas items. There are no stockings over the fireplace. There are no presents under the tree.
There is no Devin.

I didn’t know that last year at my parents’, pregnant and glowing, opening presents of knit booties and board books about trains, was going to be my one and only Christmas to celebrate with my baby. That there would be no “first” Christmas. There would be no more gifts. There would be no more pictures amid wrapping paper and toys. Only tears, and memories.

So when my retrieval date was set and I counted out the number of days to testing and landed on Christmas Day I got a little sliver of hope back. That maybe this year I will still have something to wake up for on Christmas morning. A reason to be joyful.

And I know it’s far from guaranteed. I know fear and anxiety, too. But can it really get any worse? No matter the news of this cycle, there will still be the hole in my heart to contend with. There will still be tears. If it’s negative there will probably be more tears. I accept that.

But maybe it won’t be. Maybe, just maybe, we could have something wonderful this Christmas. That is what I hold on to.

When I learned I had the explosion of follicles in my ovaries I posted “I’m just a big jar full of jelly beans.” I laughed at myself, because that’s really what I felt like.

I never got around to posting it, since I was making a cute little graphic when the Dr called with the news that only one egg mature (and thus I got distracted and didn’t feel like fiddling with graphics anymore) but I came home from retrieval and took a photo of a glass of 38 jelly beans. I thought it would be cute.

When we got the fertilization report it was natural to call them my two jellybeans. And when we put this one back inside me it definitely felt like that was my one Jellybean. The name has just stuck. Den says that’s what cute nicknames are supposed to be – spur-of-the-moment names that just come to you in the middle of the situation.

Den likes the name, too, because he says our two little embryos are the black licorice jelly beans. They’re his favorite flavor, and of course the most rare – you have a whole bag of jelly beans and you might get one or two. Of course I don’t like black licorice so I’ve been arguing with him, saying NO they aren’t black!! But the metaphor really does fit.

We may come up with a different name for this little guy if/when we see a heartbeat on an ultrasound. Devin’s embryo was Han Solo from the moment we found out we had only one until our first ultrasound when Den proclaimed that it looked like a sheep, at which time he became Sheepie. (And he still is our Sheepie, even after we named him Devin at the level II ultrasound when we saw the boy-parts.)

So I really don’t know how long this name will last, if something new will come along. But for right now it’s our little Jellybean.

This morning, about 15 minutes before my alarm was set to go off, my phone rung. The number wasn’t one from my address book. I answered it and the person introduced themselves as “so and so from the RE’s lab.” My heart started pounding… Den later said my voice had a tinge of panic in it. She continued, “Just reminding you about your transfer this morning. Be here at 9:30 for a 10:00 transfer.” I thanked her and hung up… and then collapsed back into my pillow in relief. They’ve never called me to remind me before! Don’t DO that to me!

We grabbed some breakfast on the way, and I drank a bunch of water and hot chocolate to try to make sure my bladder was full, as per my instructions. I remembered bring my valium – although it wasn’t valium, it was something else, something similar. I took one while we were in the car, then another when we got to the hospital. Next time I have to remember to take them earlier, because it really wasn’t doing much for me.

Yet again I got dressed in the lovely hospital gown, though this time with my huge bloated belly. I patted it and mentioned to Den how this brought back memories from the last time I was dressed in a gown with a belly. :( Next time will be much different, much better.

After fighting for space on my bed I finally got in it with the blanket on top of me – Den was using the bed to fold all our clothes. He’s very strange. Den got dressed in scrubs too, as he was going into the OR with me this time.

This time was so much easier than retrieval – no IV, no huge long forms to fill out, just a couple of consent forms to sign and they wheel me and my bed in. (I enjoy that part. I wish I could just take some valium and then get wheeled around the hospital for a while. That would be FUN.) Into the special Operating Room, with Den at my side.

The embryologist came in to show us the sheet on the embryo – Jellybean was listed as a 7-cell embryo and she said it was compacting. (Devin was an 8-cell that was compacting. So very promising!) They’re going to culture our second embryo out to day 5 or 6, then decide if it meets the criteria for freezing… but I have good feelings about it.

They got the stirrups all set up, my legs spread open, all the fun stuff. They checked the position of everything with an abdominal ultrasound. And then we sat and waited. I’m pretty sure I was the most uncomfortable in the room. Just a guess.

Finally the embryologist came in with the catheter that had Jellybean in it. I didn’t feel a thing. A little blip on the ultrasound and that was that!

I layed in the bed, covered with warm blankets, trying to just chill out and meditate, for 20 minutes before they said I could get up and get dressed. And off we went, with everyone wishing us good luck.

My beta would have been 14 days after retrieval, but that just happens to be Christmas Day. So it’s scheduled for the 26th! Den doesn’t want me testing christmas morning, even though I want to, because he doesn’t want the entire day to be ruined if it’s bad news. We will have to work out the timing!

::

This evening was the yearly memorial candle lighting ceremony at our local Angel of Hope. We were standing there, holding our candle in memory of Devin, thinking how fitting it was that today was the day that Jellybean was put inside me. We didn’t feel quite so alone as we did before.

Upgrading WordPress. Things will be very wonky for this weekend. Excuse the mess.

I wouldn’t really call it pain. It’s more like… serious discomfort. I am moving very slowly at work – today I spent the entire 4 hours just wishing I could go home. So glad I don’t have to go back to that job until wednesday! Getting up off my seat every few minutes was bothering my ovaries. I didn’t realize how much I get up and down until yesterday. Hitting bumps in my car, also not so fun. I think it’s anytime I clench my stomach muscles… it squeezes my ovaries and they shriek in outrage. I like to just lay back and relax… then they’re fine.

I am also still very bloated. My pants – which have been very loose on me for weeks – are quite snug. I am very fond of my sweats right now. I’m tempted to pull out my maternity sweats, but I know they wouldn’t fit me at all right now, since I lost a good bit of weight since then.

The good news is that I still don’t have any further symptoms of OHSS, so yay. Also I read back to the time after retrieval of my first IVF cycle, and it seems that I had the same reaction then. That time it went away the day after transfer, so hopefully this follows suit.

I’m so looking forward to tomorrow. I wish my clinic had the capability of photographing the little embryo, but I’m happy just to hear how good they’re doing. Tomorrow I will have a little embryo in me!

I have been continually amazed by the support around me (us). On my forums, here in blogland… you all bring me to tears with how excited you get when things go good for me, and how upset you get when things go badly. It’s not just a bunch of people driving by to say “Well shucks, that sounds aweful.” I feel your love and support, your caring. And I thank you for it.

On two different forums I was a member of a due date group throughout my pregnancy. I have heard from other babyloss mamas on different forums that they often feel unceremoniously removed from their pregnancy group – even though they spent many months there. I am grateful to say that I absolutely do not feel like that. One of my groups just approached me to ask if it was alright if they used Devin’s picture in their little group siggie, that they want to include him and the other babies who were lost because it just didn’t feel right to leave them out. I really choked up. Thank you for not forgetting me. Thank you for not leaving us behind.

There are a lot of people out there who really can’t understand why I spend so much time online, and why on earth I would want to share private things online. They don’t get it at all. But look how rich in friends I am. Look how much support I have. It’s amazing.

I look forward more than anything to sharing my next pregnancy with you all – with my friends here in blogland and my friends on my forums.

Oh, and also, I don’t know if I ever mentioned it, but could the person/people who sent me this fabulous shirt let me know so I can properly thank them?? It was the perfect thing to wear to retrieval!

(Me after retrieval – tired, accomplished, and hopeful.)

This cycle has been a completely hellish roller coaster. I walked into work this morning feeling very… small. My boss excitedly asked me how it went yesterday, and I shrugged. I told her it went okay, but it wasn’t looking promising. How do you explain to people who have no concept of IVF just how dire things looked? How do you possibly try to illustrate that 38 is a fucking lot of eggs, and to have only 1 good one is beyond bad. It’s depressing.

I kept my cell phone close at hand and checked for any voicemail. I was very surprized when at 10:30 there was a missed call and 1 new voicemail. I excused myself and ran into the back to listen. It was the nurse. She said that they were ablet to inject 3 eggs (!!) and that two of those had fertilized. She said that she knew we had all hoped for more this time, but that we had “two good eggs and the lab was very happy this morning.”

Tears welled up in my eyes as I listened, pacing the small room. I was reminded of the day I got the news we were approved for insurance – same room, same pacing, same rush of relief and gratitude.

I’ve been thinking about how it could have gotten from one “could be mature” to them doing ICSI to three (presumably mature) eggs and getting 2 to fertilize. Obviously some eggs matured after their initial evaluation right after retrieval. Yesterday at the bad news it seemed obvious to me that those extra two hours before retrieval hadn’t done a damn thing. But now I’m looking at these numbers, wondering… What if those extra 2 hours did help enough for the eggs to be able to mature after retrieval? What if 2 hours just wasn’t enough, they need maybe 3 or 4? I know 4 would be pushing the limits of spontaneous ovulation, but it might be worth pushing to 3 hours next time. I also wonder, all those extra eggs, did they hinder the process? Would the numbers have been even better if the original 10 follicles had been the only ones? I’ll probably have a discussion with the doctor again later.

I will note here that I am very pleased with this doctor. He has displayed a willingness to try different methods of attack on my immature eggs, as evidenced by his on-the-fly plan yesterday of combining conventional IVF with ICSIing immature eggs on the off chance that something would work. He also has showed me he’s continued to research this subject and keep trying in future cycles. He has also impressed me with the way he speaks to me. He doesn’t talk down to me at all. Ever since I approached him with that research paper and plan he has seemed to share tidbits of research with me, speaking to me directly. I really, really appreciate that. I feel like he’s not just treating me like a patient, a number. For him to call me directly and offer up sympathy and possible things to try… well that means a lot.

It occurs to me that this is the first time we’ve had 2 embryos at the fertilization report. Remember that in my first cycle we didn’t find out about the second one until transfer – it had fertilized late. So the previous two cycles I spent the time between retrieval and transfer feeling very hopeless, wondering if our one solitary embryo was going to kick the bucket before we got to transfer. We’ve never had a spare. I’ve never felt like we had options, backup. Oh it feels wonderful!

To answer the question that everyone is asking: we are only putting back one. Den would probably put two back, but I am not willing to risk twins – not after ending up with a stillbirth after a very low risk singleton pregnancy pregnancy. You can tell me twins are low risk all you want, but I am far too aquainted with how “low” risk does not mean “no” risk. I’ll be terrified enough as it is next time without adding more to it. But beyond that, we know transferring just one embryo has a very good chance of working for us, as it worked before. I am pretty confident at this point that the reason for our infertility is entirely my egg maturity problem – in other words, it is NOT an implantation/lining issue. One embryo is all I need. Especially if it’s a really good looking one, like Devin’s embryo was.

We will be freezing the second embryo, so if this time doesn’t work we can just thaw out our frosty and do a frozen egg transfer – much easier on my body, especially given my body’s tendency to overstim. And that is very exciting to me. I feel positively giddy at the very real possibility of having a frosty. After last cycle I really never thought I’d ever get one – it seemed like I was doomed to doing a fresh cycle every single time. Plus statistically it actually makes more sense. I believe the last statistics I saw for my clinic was the pregnancy rate for single embryo transfer was a little more than 50%, the success rate for 2 embryos was 66%. So you have a higher overall chance of success by doing two consecutive single embryo transfers than doing one transfer with 2 embryos.

I am so looking forward to Sunday. I’m excited to put one little jellybean back inside me and begin the dreaded two week wait. I feel like we really have a chance now… and I know anything can happen and it does come down to pure luck, but oh my wouldn’t that be a fantastic christmas gift?! Going by the same pattern of my last two cycles, my beta should be exactly two weeks after my retrieval… which would be… Christmas day. Yeah. I’m assuming they will schedule it for the day before or day after.

I feel like celebrating, but unfortunately I don’t think I’ll be doing much celebrating the next couple days. My ovaries are pissed. I am so sore… I was walking very slow at work today, very gingerly getting up onto and off of my chair. They just feel so huge, so tender… it’s like they finally realized what was done to them and they’re throwing a fit. I’m incredibly bloated – I look quite pregnant, lol.

If it is OHSS it’s very mild for the time being. I’m wicked bloated and have some aching pain, but that’s not very surprizing given how many eggs they got out of me. I did gain a couple of pounds as of yesterday evening, but that can probably be attributed to the fluid I received via IV. I have no nausea, no further weight gain since yesterday, no trouble breathing, peeing or eating. So I’m okay with this. I’m just taking it easy and getting friendly with my heating pad.

And when it comes right down to it I would gladly suffer for a few days – hell, even a few weeks – to get some good embryos. So I’m far from miserable… it’s just another price to pay to get closer to our goal.

I went about my day with a decided lack of enthusiasm. Relief, yes – excitement, no. We got to the hospital on time, got myself undressed and situated in the bed with blankets covering me. Then the fun part: the IV.

The nurse said she was pretty good at IVs. I watched as she used some novacaine to numb the area, then used a small needle to carefully thread into my vein. She liked it. I was relieved it went so well. She taped it all on and I relaxed.

Then she frowned at the drip. “It’s slowed down.” She pushed gently at the IV in my hand, and apparently it started up again. After fiddling with it for a few minutes she ended up taking all the tape off and re-taping it… and that was enough. I was starting to resign myself to getting stuck again, not my favorite thing in the world but par for the course.

Of course after that I didn’t so much as move my left hand.

There was a ton of paperwork. Roughly 4 different people introduced themselves and went over paperwork – the same list of questions. Have you eaten today? Allergic to anything? Any history of heart or blood problems? Finally everything was done and they got me to walk into the OR.

Layed down on a very funny looking bed, head on a pillow. Arms out to my sides, then she covered them and the rest of me in really warm blankets – ahhhhh, I love that part! Legs in stirrups. Then they said it might sting a little as the medication went into my IV. Yep, I felt a little burn… very slight… and then a very very happy buzz. I drifted off.

I woke up much quicker this time than the last two times – I remember it used to be such a struggle to get and stay awake. This time I was lucid quite quickly. I felt a lot of cramping, though, which I do not remember from last time, so they gave me some pills to help with that. No sense in being uncomfortable if I don’t have to be.

Someone came by to tell me they had gotten 38 eggs! I wasn’t surprized by that. Neither was the RE who came by a bit later (actually she mumbled something about expecting 45).

I had juice and saltines, they unhooked me from the IV, and got me up to pee. By then I felt well enough to get dressed and get going. Den went to pull up the car and the nurse walked me out and off we went!

After we dropped off my prescriptions we went out for brunch. Yummm, I treated myself with a big waffle with strawberry and whip cream. I love those damn things.

I came home, posted a little, then ended up drifting off in bed for a long nap.

I woke up to three voicemails. Apparently I had forgotten to turn my phone ringer back on after we left the hospital. One was from my dentist, reminding me about my appointment on Monday. One was from my mom, asking if I was okay and could I please call her back. And the third… was from the doctor. The head doctor.

You know how sometimes you enter a state of suspended expectation… where you really just have no hopes or thoughts? That’s kind of how I was. Especially when he said, “Unfortunately I don’t really have good news for you.” I feared he would tell me they were all bad and nothing could be done. But he said one is “possibly mature” – that the lab thinks they see a polar body (what is this “thinks” and “possibly” thing??), and they’re going to ICSI it. Then he went on to say that what they’re going to do is select 10 eggs to do traditional IVF with. That is to say, they’ll put them in petri dishes with some sperm and see what happens. The rest of the eggs they’re going to re-evaulate in the morning to see if any have matured so they can do ICSI still.

Again, it really wasn’t surprizing news. After my last two cycles’ huge disappointment at fertilization, and this cycle’s overstimming, I just really feared the worst. I’m a little relieved we have one possibility, to be honest. I know it could go either way. But the one statistic on my side is that every mature egg we’ve had has made an embryo. I know I’m knocking on wood by saying that, but still, that’s my track record. So if it is mature… we should get an embryo. Should. No guarantees. We’ll find out tomorrow if we have anything at all to transfer.

Which is a shitty space to be sitting in. Just like last cycle. Just waiting to see if we have anything at all.

I did call the doctor back to speak with him. He apologised that the news wasn’t better, but I told him it’s honestly what I expected with the way the cycle went. I had hopes it would be better, but no expectations. Unfortunately it does seem that the extra 2 hours after trigger didn’t do much of anything. But he said he’s found another research article that talks about using a different type of drug to stim in low oocyte maturity cases (I thought he said HSG drugs, but I very well may have misheard that! Maybe it was HCG?). I’m really glad he’s willing to use me as a guinea pig… I’m happy to keep trying this until something works. Especially since it worked once.

As for how I’m feeling physically… I have not needed to take any more pain meds since I got home. I feel some twinges now and then, but it’s nothing much. I’m a little tender. I still feel bloated. But considering how many they got from me? Not bad at all.

Replacing the twitter feed with the posts from that day and the day following.

We have 2 embryos!!!!! 9:12 AM Dec 12th from mobile web

I am so scared that one isn’t going to fertilize. 7:47 PM Dec 11th from TwitterFox

Eating a complete meal not such a great idea right now. Oh so uncomfortable. Bleh. 7:18 PM Dec 11th from TwitterFox

Dr mentioned another research paper he read which has something else to try next time – using a different type of drugs. There’s still hope. 4:32 PM Dec 11th from TwitterFox

Dr. Just called to let me know the initial evaluation of my eggs… only one is mature enough to ICSI. I’m disappointed, but not surprized. 3:45 PM Dec 11th from TwitterFox

And the winner was: 38 eggs!! 9:54 AM Dec 11th from mobile web

Had nightmares all night that they wouldn’t let me do the retrieval. But I feel better so it really was a stomach ache! 6:05 AM Dec 11th from TwitterFox

I’m just a big jar full of jelly beans. How many do I have??? Could be 20, could be 50. So take a guess! How many eggs in total will they retrieve from my poor overstimmed little ovaries on thursday?

Winner(s) will get a shiney graphic for their blog and the satisfaction of knowing they are psychic.

GUESSES:

Em (mrslady1975) – 10
Tash – 12
Delen – 15
Becky – 17
Kery – 18
Cori – 19
Julia aprilmiracle – 19
Kelly – 23
Eden – 23
WaterBishop – 24
Eveline – 24
Shannon – 25
Emerald Rose – 26
Mel – 26
Karen – 27
N – 28
Karla – 28
Leigh – 28
Ali – 29
Caba – 30
Holly – 31
Kel – 31
kRenee – 32
Amber Nicole – 32
JuliaKB – 37
Lyanna – 38
Manda – 41
KC – 41
Marie – 42
Malky B. – 48
Andrea – 50
Cynthia – 73