Yesterday, I slept poorly tossing and turning as negative thoughts ran about my head. When I awoke, I lay in bed for a few minutes longer feeling my ovaries and noticing that I felt nothing. All night I had felt *something* which, to me, was a good sign. But there was *nothing* by morning. As of my last scan, they saw 2 mature follicles, 1 coming close to maturity, and a whole bunch more that were small. I began to have doubts that anything would be extracted. I forced myself into the shower and still anxiously felt where my ovaries are for some sign of discomfort, but I still couldn’t. As I got ready to leave, I made sure that I had no food or water even though my desert dry apartment left my throat parched and almost sore. I puffed on my asthma inhaler and left the apartment.
As I trekked to NYU, I was ruminating on the negative. I put one foot in front of the other, hoping and praying that all would be fine. Had I made the right decision by going in? Why did I feel so good? Shouldn’t I be feeling bloated and horrible? This was like last time. I felt nothing last time. I felt just the same as I always did, and to me, that meant nothing was working.
I went in to NYU and sorted out the anesthesia billing (a hefty $1200 for 15 minutes of sedation!) before climbing the stairs to the surgical waiting area. The receptionist was the same as last time – an unfriendly woman who was now shielded by office cubicle walls and signs to further obscure her from annoying patients. I don’t really get why she has that job. She is the least comforting person for people who are in, often, psychological pain!
After a long while, I was finally called in to prep for the extraction. I changed into my hospital gown, cap, and socks, locked my valuables in a locker, and was taken in for weighing, blood pressure, and told to pee, before waiting in a rather sterile examination room for extraction time. Dr. Grifo was walking around and every time he passed by he uttered reassuring words of “we’ll be with you soon!” And “soon” did come. I went in and lay down on the surgical table, my knees in stirrups. Dr. Grifo put a catheter into my hand which bloody well hurt. I don’t remember that from last time. The anesthesiologist, Dr. Barillo(??) was a reassuring warm soul as he injected the necessary drugs to make me pass out. I told him that I was over dopey last time, and he reassured me that he would monitor everything minute-to-minute. Within seeming seconds, I passed out, and before I knew it, I heard Dr. Grifo say to his team that 7 eggs had been extracted and I was taken to the recovery area.
I woke up quickly this time and wanted to be up and about straight away. I was given Graham crackers and apple juice by a lovely British nurse who called me “darling”. I was gradually elevated to an arm chair and then taken to the bathroom before having my catheter removed and given instructions to dress and go home. My friend was waiting for me in the waiting area and we headed out for Indian food.
I felt remarkably well after the extraction. I, perhaps, should have slept, but I ended up spending much of the afternoon doing a little work for my job and then watching a replay of the Oscars. I finally hit the sack after midnight and awoke rather refreshed and feeling positive.
Late morning, I finally got the call from NYU where they told me 3 eggs had been frozen. Not as many as I would have liked, but certainly not the disaster I was expecting. So as of now, I have 6 mature eggs and 1 less mature egg banked. 7 in total. That’s not terrible. So now, my next question is, do I redraw money from my home loan and do it all again while I can? What I’m learning is that, no matter what my regimen is, I have generated about 7 follicles every single cycle, with 3 making it to maturity. This includes 7 follicles that were visible in my first canceled cycle. So chances are, if I go through this again, I’ll probably generate about the same – not many, but there always seem to be eggs in every follicle. Thoughts anyone?