Time with Melba

Yes, I'm one of the strange people that names their belongings. Melba is my computer you see. Violet is my violin. Trixie is my car. I spend far too much time with Melba as it is. And as a result I have a husband that can get a little jealous of her. And we're extraordinarily busy but I'll get to that in a minute.

I suppose I ought to record the events of my embryo transfer. It was harrowing. I've never been one to have a great deal of bladder control. I try not to stray far from a clean restroom at any given time. And I worried and fretted about this embryo transfer. My clinic does an ultrasound guided transfer. In order to do an ultrasound and be able to see my uterus they need my bladder to be filled with liquid. And so I fretted. I was instructed to drink 32 ounces of fluid a half hour before my appointment. I got about 24 ounces in before I was full. I hoped that this would be good enough. We got to the doctors office and it wasn't long before we were called back.

Now, if you will humor me as I reminisce a bit about my wedding day. I am normally an outgoing, chipper person. I am bubbly and can be quite talkative. I had worked quite a bit with my favorite makeup girl, Teri and she and I had seen lots of each other prior to my wedding day. And when we had meetings I would entertain her with the latest wedding planning drama, tales about my infamous MIL etc. And then the day of my wedding day arrived. And my appointment was for ten am. And I walked in quietly and said hello and sat in my chair. And Teri attempted to make small talk with me but I really wasn't into it. I sat there and quietly smiled. Nodded where appropriate. And when she was done, I thanked her and got up and left. I was by no means rude but I was certainly not quite myself. Teri later told me that she was afraid I was going to freak out or blow up or fly off the handle or whatever else one does when losing it. I wasn't. I was eerily calm. The gravity of the day was weighing heavily upon me as I considered what we were embarking on. I was only 21 when we got married and I, by no means understood what all marriage would entail but I understood that this was a magnificent and grave undertaking. And all of the nonsense that I am usually yammering on about was on the back burner. It was replaced with a calm reverence worthy of such an important day.

I expected that same quiet serenity to exist for my embryo transfer. It didn't. It's difficult to be that tranquil when you want to do the pee-pee dance. I was antsy. Once brought back to the transfer room, I laid down and one of the techs did a quick ultrasound. She deemed that I had enough fluid in my bladder. Dr Caperton was called in. He didn't agree. Water was brought. I drank. I nearly cried. Another ultrasound was done. Another assessment of not enough water. I did cry. I didn't cry much. The longer we wait the more uncomfortable this is going to be. I drank again. And it was awful. My embryo transfer was supposed to be at 2:30pm. It was now 3:15pm. I needed to go when we arrived at 2:15pm and it has been an hour. I wasn't comfortable. I had one nurse, two techs and Paul in the room all the time. Another nurse, my favorite receptionist and my doctor floating in and out. It's hard to exist in a state of peace and quiet when you feel like your room is a train station. I wanted everyone out! But it's only now that I realize this. Hmmm, remember this moment. It may come in useful later. Finally, after ultrasound number 3 it was agreed upon that I was ready for the transfer. Speculum in. Lots of pressure. Catheter in. More pressure. Mike, the embryologist is waiting in the doorway. It's almost time. And I start to panic. I've needed to go for over an hour now and they are pressing on my bladder. I begin to whimper. Paul looks at me and tells me that I can do it. But I know better. I tell them I can't do it. They assure me we're so close to being done. Paul tells me I can do it. I am trying desperately not to move. I am clenching my gown. I am digging my nails into my arms. And then I heard Dr Caperton say, "Mike, go put the embryos away. She's urinating." The pressure was relieved. The ultrasound probe was removed from my belly and it was the most welcome feeling I've ever felt. And then the shame set it. The nurse got me up from the table and walked me to the restroom. I cried all the way there. As we were leaving the room, Dr Caperton called out to only empty my bladder a little. Just enough to create relief. Sure. Relief. The only thing that was going to grant me relief was an empty bladder. Have you any idea how difficult it is to stop urinating mid-stream? It isn't easy, I assure you. Somehow I managed. A few more tears and back up onto the table I went. Mumbled out apologies to my doctor. And tried to calm down. Calmness still eludes me as I still have to pee. I'm so embarrassed I want to crawl under a rock and die. And now I'm starting to freak out. The heavy panicked breathing. I just want to escape. I can't do it. Paul wouldn't quit talking to me. The doctor is still telling me to sit still and quit squirming. I still have to pee. I've failed at round one and I am creating failure for round two. I know that I just won't be able to do it. I order them to take everything out of me. I am practically shouting at everyone. They are trying to calm me down but only one person in the whole world has ever been successful at calming me down and it's just not appropriate to bring your dad to your embryo transfer. Dr Caperton tells me that he'll be able to be done within two minutes if I can just hang on. I start to whimper that I can but back down and tell him he needs to get everything out of me. NOW! He heaved a big heavy sigh and agreed. Poor Mike is once again sent back to the lab with the embryos. I couldn't have the babies enter me like that. It's like trying to have sex when you're angry. Trying to get pregnant while having an anxiety attack just didn't feel right. Back to the restroom we go. This time I'm instructed to just empty my bladder. He tells me as I'm leaving that we'll just figure things out. How I don't know but he seems confident. Which begs the question if he can do this without torturing me why has he put me through this. I don't know and at this point I don't much care. More crying and are we really surprised? Back again up on the table and I just sort of went somewhere. I don't really know where. No longer having to pee, I laid on the table and let my body go limp. I don't really remember much of the transfer. I looked to the side and didn't acknowledge anyone. Not Paul. And only barely responsive to Dr Caperton and the nurse. I responded to their instructions but didn't give any indication other than my obedience. It really was over pretty quickly. The embryos were brought in. There was much concentration and some tension but I felt very removed from it. Once again everything was removed and blankets were laid over me and I was instructed to lie perfectly still for ten minutes. Easy enough. I think Paul felt a little abandoned because I still didn't want to talk much so we sat mostly in silence with me occasionally turning around to glare at him when he asked me for the 18th time in 60 seconds how I was feeling. I know. I can be be a talker but please sometimes silence is golden. It really is. Especially when I'm newly pregnant. We went from an exam room that felt like a train station to an exam room that felt like a quiet empty church in the space of two minutes. After the obligatory ten minutes were up I was excused to the restroom once more and then we were sent home. We arrived at the RE's office a few minutes after 2pm and we left almost three hours later. We were walking out the door at ten minutes to five. They all congregated around the front desk, reminded me that at that one moment in time that I was indeed pregnant, to adhere to my bedrest and wished me luck. Beta was scheduled for 9/28. I hate the 2WW. But it's a necessary beastly process when one is TTC. And then we were sent home to wait. The transfer certainly didn't go as planned but I felt better than my embryos came home into a non-clenched happy uterus rather than a stressed and constricted one. And then we waited.

More time with Melba tomorrow.