Yesterday Q. and I worked through our options while he was making dinner. We agreed that if we had four blasts or more we’d transfer two and freeze the rest. If we had three or less we’d transfer one and freeze the others. We wanted to maximize our chances on this cycle, but also hedge our bets against failure, because I wasn’t emotionally ready for our 2.0 quest to be ended without warning in early January.
What we didn’t do and, in retrospect, should have done, was discuss our tactics if we had a repeat of E’s cycle in August 2010 where we had two blasts ready to go and more still developing.
That is exactly what we got.
My f/s appeared in the transfer room, 90 minutes later than scheduled (not bad by his standards- I love listening to the nurses talk about him. One was telling another patient: “I’ve learned that the more you ask him, the longer he makes you wait. So you try not to ask him until you have to say, ‘They’re leaving!’, and then he comes. All the other doctors work on our time. He works on his own time.” He also managed to give everyone the slip for a few minutes- he’s had a doctor shadowing him for months now and this doctor, plus everyone else, had absolutely no idea where he was.)
He looked at the embryologist’s report. “Let’s see what we’ve got. One, two, three, four, five, SIX! How many do you want to transfer?”
“Two!” I said with confidence, pleased to have a clear answer.
Then he started qualifying.
Turns out we had two blasts ready to go (one more advanced than the other) and four more late bloomers that were still developing. Of those four, two were “very very close” and the other two “still had some work to do”.
And then I screwed my courage to the sticking place and told him to transfer the two blasts.
“Just like E’s cycle,” I told myself.
In August 2010 we had six embryos still thinking about becoming blasts at this stage. Two of them did, and were frozen. I’m hoping that because the technology has improved we might get two again.
Four would be enough. Enough for two more chances. Enough to know that we really did do everything we could to expand our family. Enough for closure when the time came.
So here I sit, pregnant until proven otherwise with twins, yet still in the retrieval waiting game mindset.
At least it will kill one day in the tww waiting for the clinic to call tomorrow to tell me whether my gut instinct gamble paid off.
Beta is January 2nd.