The Transfer (The Good Parts Version)

As promised, let me go into a bit more detail on why Monday was so great. Back in March, the doctor told us that between the miscarriages and not producing very many follicles on the first round of injectables, we might be looking "reduced ovarian response" (probably not exactly the right medical term). If that were the case, we would be facing the likely possibility that none of JF's eggs were any good, and donor eggs would be the only viable option. The next round of injectables, at double the dose, went much better, but the doctor left us both with the impression that there was still serious doubt to the quality of those eggs. So I, at least, spent the last nine months thinking there was a good chance that we were going to eventually start IVF, spend the first round learning that it was hopeless, and then move on to donor eggs. The doctor did tell us this month that he no longer considered this a likely diagnosis, but that wasn't enough to clear the idea out of my mind.

So I spent the weekend trying to enjoy the early Christmas with my family, while inside I was bracing myself for disastrous news, either in a phone call or at our appointment on Monday. I'm pretty sure JF felt the same way -- she said she had nightmares that only one embryo made it far enough along to transfer. I found myself thinking that wouldn't be so bad, at least in her dream there was one that worked! But I didn't want to say anything that would get her down.

So Monday morning we said goodbye to my family, and I drove us to the fancy IVF center with dread in my heart. (Example imagined bad scenario -- there is nobody else there when we get there, because we missed the message saying none of the embryos made it, and it being Christmas Eve they just stayed home.) Because it was a fairly long drive, in winter, we left early, and arrived at the center 30 minutes early. Moments after we got there we were ushered back by a nurse, and that's when I knew we were really in trouble -- surely it could only mean they wanted to give us the bad news quickly.

Only then she took us to a gurney, and gave us hospital gowns, and suddenly there was a ray of hope -- I figured it was unlikely they'd give us gowns to sit down and give us bad news. Then she casually told us that seven embryos had been cleared as normal by the PGD testing, and the doctor would soon be checking over to pick the best ones to transfer. That's when it finally got through to me that this might work out. I felt comfortable enough to joke that this was probably the only time children of ours would be considered normal. I think JF expressed a worry that maybe the doctor might still find a problem with all the embryos, but in my mind the situation had shifted from inevitable trouble to strong hope.

Finally the doctor showed up, and gave us the news. Of the seven, two were still a bit behind, and two were absolutely prime for transferring. (I think this means the other three were merely average.) The question of gender came up, and I momentarily panicked, because this was something we hadn't really thought of ahead of time. But luckily the situation was ideal -- the best two were one of each. The other five would be evaluated the next day (ie yesterday) to determine if any were suitable for freezing.

Exciting as that was, the big news was that the possibility of problems with eggs or sperm is off the table. It now looks like the issues have been hormones and timing -- things IVF is already designed to work around. All the pills and the shots every morning may be a pain in the arse, but they're a lot easier to put up with when it looks like they have a good chance of making everything work.

So there you have it -- easily the best news all year for us. It doesn't mean that this cycle is necessarily going to work. But it does mean there is a good chance it will, and plenty of reasons to be optimistic that things will work out eventually.

Which is pretty much the best Christmas present ever.