Oh my goodness me, I feel like I've been slung out of a revolving door at a million miles an hour.
Am sitting here in my uggs, dressing gown and pjs trying not to move too much which is driving me insane. Without a case of it being "too much information" i feel like I've fallen knickers first into the cutlery drawer and then someone has tried to park a mini metro up there. I am not feeling my alluring best.
Yesterday was another weird but rather wonderful day. We arrived at the hospital and I didn't have to wait very long before I was called into theatre. I could go in fully clothed but had to take my shoes off for obvious reasons. I had decided though, in a moment of festive fun, to wear novelty Christmas socks and undies which I then came to regret as my "amusing" socks were waggling above my face and in front of all the theatre staff for the next 30 minutes.
The embryologist came to speak to me and told me that of the 13 embryos, 7 had gone on to continue developing but that the other 6 had stalled. This meant that they'd be implanting one and freezing six. The other six lazy little things would be monitored until teatime but it was unlikely they'd make any more progress. This meant we were down from a full football team to a five a side team plus subs.
I had to strip to the waist but was allowed to keep my socks on which was good as the theatre was so unbelieveably freezing. They'd put the sheets on the radiator again but my legs shook the whole way through I was that cold and the theatre technician kept laughing at my goosebumps.
I showed them my monster hand and I once again became a medical mystery. For some reason, after the anaesthetic jab which absolutely killed on Monday, my hand has swollen up to twice its normal size from my fingers to halfway down my wrist. The whole back of it is bright blue and I can't put any weight on it or even open a door. The consultant had a good look and came to the conclusion that as they had had to dig around for so long to find a vein on Monday then there was a good chance they may have nicked a nerve. She also said that the medicine can weaken the walls of the veins which can lead to fluid leaking and swelling. This was not before 2 other medics had been sent for to marvel at my giant beast of a hand. I wouldn't mind but I've asked for some leather gloves for Christmas.
So, I was now lying half naked in novelty socks whilst in stirrups with a giant monster hand. Was it any wonder Tom didn't want to come into theatre with me?
He was busy causing domestics out in the waiting room. Apparently after we'd agreed Tom wouldn't come into theatre with me (he's unbelieveably squeamish) another couple were called for their theatre slot. The bloke said he wasn't going to go with his wife and when she had a bit of a grump about it, he pointed at Tom and said, "Well if he doesn't have to go in then I'm not either." Nice to know that the two of us spread a little festive dischord and chaos wherever we seem to go.
I'm quite glad Tom didn't come in actually as there is nothing less alluring or feminine than stirrups.
Oh, yes there is as i discovered....
Normally, when you have the dreaded smear test, you go in the stirrups and the doctor/nurse attacks you from the side of the bed don't they?
Not in this case.
I felt like I was on some ride at Alton Towers as my legs were actually strapped into the stirrups to keep me completely still and then the bed was whipped out from under my bum! The bed was in two bits and, so that the doctor can get "up close and personal", the "feet end" of the bed is removed and they wheel themselves up on some wheely office type chair and get right in amongst the action. It was rather disconcerting to have the bed disappear from under your nethers and a doctor scoot up on a revolving chair and almost collide with your ladygarden. It does not rank in my top ten best experiences.
I then had to have a scan which is the same sort as the one you have when you're actually preggers. This is to find the bit to put the embryo in. After all I've been through, I was glad they were locating the exact spot and weren't just going to glue it to a kidney or the side of my spleen.
I was then shown a picture of our little embryo. Disappointingly it didn't have a santa hat on or was carrying a piece of festive mistletoe but it did resemble 4 silvery Christmas baubles. Apparently our little baublebaby was a grade one/2 which means that it's pretty much the best you can get as they're graded from the best (grade one) to grade four. Ours would've been a true grade one but there was a tiny bit of "fragmentation" in one of the cells. I am therefore incubating a Christmas "fraggle".
It was inserted through long thin wire and all the theatre staff and embryologists all wished it good luck as it went in and then me good luck after it was implanted which was really sweet. Then it was 20 minutes lying still until I was wheeled back into a side room to get dressed and have a chat about what happens next.
I've got to go back on 4th Jan to have a urine test to see if I've been lucky and a blood test which will either check my pregnany hormones or give a profile of how close my hormones are back to being normal if it's not worked. This is the morning of my first day in my new role as headteacher which is obviously perfect timing!!!!!
I spent the rest of the day yesterday on various sofas being grumped at by Tom every time I tried to move (it was a little heated when he was actually considering taking me to the toilet and I just about exploded at him with frustration...) Mum went a little bit bonkers and photocopied our embryo picture and hung it on the sodding Christmas tree. Our little "fragglebaublebaby" is now pride of place near the angel in Mum's front room. The world's gone mad.
Slept in the spare room last night as Tom was convinced he'd "bump me" in the night which has never happened before and it would've been very bad luck for him to suddenly become a human game of buckaroo and start assaulting me but it meant that I didn't have to hear any snoring so I didn't protest too much.
I repaid all Tom's fussing and kindness beautifully this morning in the way only I can. He brought me jammy toast and tea in bed and whispered those lovely words every girl wants to hear in the morning, "Have you done that vaginal pessary thing yet love?" and then we began to watch some TV on his i phone. This is where I repaid him. I don't know how it bloomin happened but one minute the i phone was in my hand and the next minute it was in my cup of tea.
Poor Tom's fuming with me and I just feel like a twat. The poor bloke runs around after me and I return this favour by dropping his prized possession into my breakfast and ruining it.
He has currently gone out for a bit which I have read as, "I'm blinking furious with you but can't shout at you because of the IVF so I've had to get out this house..."
Anyway, tonight's our Estonian Christmas and then tomorrow it's round to Tom's Mum's to do it all over again the English way.
So, I'll say cheerio for now and wish everyone a very merry Christmas. If you get a chance, give a nice big festive yell of... "Come on number one!" for me and fingers crossed my fragglebaublebaby will stick
Lots of love in the meantime.