Today was transfer day. My clinic is kind of goofy in that they don’t provide daily updates as to how the embryos are developing. It’s my assumption that they subscribe to the “less handling of the embryos the better” theory, so I’m guessing that they only check them on day 1 for the initial fertilization report and then again to see if it’s necessary to do a three day transfer (90% of their transfers are on day five). Anyway, what that means for us is that we literally have no idea what we have still viable until we get to the clinic on transfer day.

Last time our doctor was there to greet us when they took us back to get prepped and he told us right away that we had one blast and one morula. Well this time around was a bit different. We went back and got prepped and sat in the transfer room for about 10 minutes before the doctor was ready for transfer. All this time we had no idea what we were dealing it. It was a little nerve wracking, though I tried to think positively.

Finally the doctor came in and handed us the photo and said that we had one blast and one morula to transfer. Again. It seems that we just can’t get two embryos to develop at the same rate so that we have two blasts to transfer. After he handed us the photo, he said he’s had more than one set of twins born from a one blast/one morula transfer. I know he said it to temper any disappointment that we were feeling, and it was a small bit of reassurance, but again, I was hoping for better.

I took a peek at the photo, but couldn’t really remember too much what our last ones looked like, so I passed it on to Mark. Right away Mark commented to me that they looked better than last time. I gave him a quizzical look because what in the hell does he know what a good blast/morula should look like? He said “yeah, the morula is nice and round whereas last time it was all curvy like a jelly bean.” Wow. He’s got one stellar memory. I made a mental note to compare when we got home and I could look at our previous embryos.

Ass it turns out, Mark was indeed correct. Our last morula was definitely “jelly bean” shaped whereas our current morula was nice and round. It also appears that our current blast is a little “clearer” which maybe means it’s less fragmented? I’m admittedly not well schooled in knowing what good embryos look should look like, but if it were up to me, I’d say that this blast did look better than the last. I’ll try to post a pic sometime soon so you can all weigh in.

Transfer was a pain in the ass, ahem, CERVIX again. It seems that my cervix has a stupid curve that does not make depositing the embryos too easy. After lots of pressure and pushing on the speculum trying to get the catheter to make the turn in my cervix, the doctor finally switched to a less flexible catheter which worked much easier. (side note: the exact same thing happened last time and he had to switch to the stiffer catheter then too, so shouldn’t he have known this and just started with the stiffer catheter from the get go? I will definitely mention this to him if we ever have to go back for a third round.) (another side note: I never had this problem with IUI’s. Is that because the catheter doesn’t have to go as far into the uterus for an IUI or is my cervix on a tirade of some sort?)

A funny interjection here: someone putting lots of pressure on your cervix is not exactly a fun and pain free experience, so I was squeezing Mark’s hand to try to take my mind off of the incredible uncomfortableness of the procedure. Meanwhile, the second I started squeezing Mark’s hand, he started squeezing mine back. The harder I squeezed his hand, the harder he squeezed mine in return. Ummm…hello? You squeezing MY hand does not help the situation! When the doctor finally gave up on the flexible catheter, I turned to Mark and asked him why in the hell he was squeezing my hand? He said he thought that if he was squeezing my hand that it would distract me from the other pain I was feeling. I literally had to laugh out loud at that! I smiled and thanked him for his effort and let him know that I’d rather be the sole hand squeezer, if that was alright with him. He graciously obliged.

The stiffer catheter was much smoother and the embryos were put into my uterus where I hope they make a nice comfortable home for another 38 weeks or so. (Mini-rant: they were NOT implanted. It drives me crazy when people refer to “implanting” embryos during IVF. It is merely a transfer, nothing is actually burrowed into the lining…the embryos have to do that work themselves. End of rant.) They inverted the table I was on so my legs were higher than my head and there we sat for a half hour playing 20 questions with each other. Nearly all of the subjects of our 20 questions subjects were places or things from our past, mostly from our vacations. It was a cool way to reminisce about all of the great experiences that we’ve shared and as an added bonus it distracted me from my urge to pee all over the table.

Finally we were released and began the long drive home. Mark made me some dinner and I ate my daily dosage of pineapple (yes, the core too). Now it’s all just a waiting game. Please let the time pass quickly!