So, transfer. First, I want to discuss the urban myth that RE’s are high pressure assholes. Everyone knows this is not true. No real RE would pull an uber-jackass move and insist a transfer was destined to fail unless multiple embryos are transferred. One absolutely wouldn’t do so when their client is laying nekkid on the table, legs strapped down, spotlight of shame in place along with a speculum placing some super comfy pressure on an over-full bladder. Everyone knows this doesn’t really happen in the real world…..
Yah, that happened. We have always said one embryo. Always. There has never been any discussion of more than one embryo. We were super thrilled to learn of how healthy our little frosty was after thaw, the embryologist was full of praise and gave us some pictures and everything, it was awesome. Then there I am, strapped down, lady bits hanging out with the tools of the trade in place, when the RE leans out the door and calls for the embryos. Embryo(s). As in, more then one. Whaaaaaa……..?? Jaymee sits up and says we’re only transferring ONE, right? We agreed to just transfer ONE… and this is when the RE turned in to a giant jackass. Giant. He hemmed and hawed and acted like we’d just shot ourselves in the head at that moment, stating the low statistical success rates bla bla bla… he was totally unethical and in appropriate, especially since Jaymees husband, the father of these child(ren) wasn’t present for this discussion and I was, you know, already naked on the table. In the end we did (just) transfer one beautiful healthy little blast, goe a very heartfelt “good luck” from the embryologist, and headed our way back to Casa de Jaymee-family to wait out the rest of the day in peace, our heads swimming at how poorly that was handled. It was a weird transfer experience, to say the least. That night we met up with some sassy ladies from a mutual online surrogacy support group for one of the most fun and giggle inducing evenings I’ve ever had. It was really wonderful to spend some real-life time with these ladies, whom I have been friends with online for two years.
So transfer happened. Because we were bit pretty hard by the pee-on-a-stick bug last time and it just dug our pity-hole deeper then it needed to be, I had decided NOT to do home pregnancy tests this time. I would hold out for the early BETA we’d scheduled. That solid resolve lasted all of 5 days. A late night call with one of my best buddies, who also happenes to be a pee-on-a-stick addict and all around bad example, had me driving over to Wal*Mart after 11pm to purchase me some pee tests. I didn’t make it out of the store, going straight into the bathrooms there to do the deed. Classy. That’s me.
So. 5 days past the transfer of a 5 day embryo, a frozen one at that and one that our RE assured us was doomed to failure because it wasn’t one of a pile being transferred…………..
I saw this.
The layman may not see it… so here’s the 6dp5dt pee test….
Again, may be hard to see for those of you not trained in the special brand of eye strain necessary for true pee-on-things obsession… Maybe this will make things easier….
That was yesterday. Todays two First Response pregnancy tests developed a results line BEFORE a test line. Crazy dark pink. So when I got the results back form our two days early BETA, I wasn’t surprised to hear the giant number of 71. Yes folks, seventy freakin’ one. That, at eight days past a 5 day FROZEN transfer? Is one super duper fantastic awesome number. It’s good. Really really good.
I go in for a second BETA test on Monday, to make sure this number is doubling… which it will be. I am so confident in this one, I really do think that this little bub I’m growing is the one. This is her baby. Their baby. Finally.
Let the countdown begin, Mama. You’re baby will be home soon.