So the transfer happened.
The embryo survived the thaw.
I spent most of the morning trying not to freak out about the possibility that it might not (which would really be the shittiest possible way to end our efforts at expanding our family).
I left the house a bit early to indulge in some completely unnecessary shopping for E. (audio books for the car ride we have coming up this week). Doing something nice for the child I do have, given this attempt to produce another child has now interrupted four weekends in a row.
There was a very exciting moment where my doctor turned up ten minutes after the scheduled time for the transfer and they called me, but then it turned out he only had time to do one transfer before he disappeared for another ninety minutes (which is normal).
I sat in the comfy chair and ate scones that I’d picked up from the new bakery along our strip (because how can my body be stressed if it’s full of butter?) and read three-quarters of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (Q. and I are watching the movies again on Friday nights and this has triggered my pretty-much-annual urge to reread the entire series).
Eventually they called me, and I went into the room and the nurse left me there for a few minutes after telling me to “lie down and get comfortable”.
You can’t get comfortable in that room.
So I stared at the ceiling and told myself (again) that this was the last time I would have to stare at that ceiling.
We are done after this, no matter what the outcome.
Then my doctor parachuted in and said how nice the embryo looked. I thought it looked odd, but they didn’t zoom in as far as they normally do, so who knows. I suspect my doctor tells everyone their embryos look great. He’s hardly going to tell someone, “Well, that looks awful, but we’ll see what happens”, given we’re not supposed to stress. It was a good quality one when it was frozen. Who knows.
My favourite ultrasound tech was the one managing the scan for the transfer, and one of my favourite nurses was working that day. They asked me how long we’d known each other.
“Six and a half years,” I told them.
They didn’t believe me.
“I started at this clinic in March 2008.”
Yes. We are SO done after this.
So my doctor put our last embryo, which may or may not have looked fabulous, into my uterus, and then I lay on the table for a few minutes and then I was finally able to go to the ‘loo. I got dressed, rang Q. to tell him I was on my way home, and left.
My sister had an IUI today, which is kind of fun because if it were a perfect world we could be pregnant together and it would be AMAZING, but also sad too because I don’t want her to have to follow the path I’ve been on.
My beta is November 7th.