mindless woman, mindless ramblings

I am now 21 weeks old and I’m definitely starting to make my presence known inside of Kym’s belly. I make sure to get in my day’s dose of exercise by using Kym’s bladder as my personal trampoline, much to her chagrin. I’m starting to kick more and more and I know that Kym can feel me moving around, and I think I’ve heard her say a few times how she can feel me on the outside now. By the time I have my next prodding session (translate that to prenatal appointment), I know that Mom and Dad will be able to feel me as well, and I can’t wait for that.  

We had my 21 week appointment today and Mom and Dad, along with Grandma Angie and Grandma Marilyn, got to see what I’ve been up to inside of Kym’s tummy. I’m sitting in a perfect frank breech presentation with my butt down low, head up high, and my legs sticking straight up and my feet right above my head. At times, I’d show off my budding athleticism by bending one leg or the other, but for the most part I was content just to keep my legs pike-straight.  

Mom wanted Angie (the ultrasound tech, not my grandma) to take another peek between my legs to be sure that my willy didn’t somehow disappear. She’s been buying lots of blue and returning lots of pink since my last appointment, and thankfully, she was able to see that all private parts were still present and accounted for.  

Dad played it cool like he usually does, but I wish that you could have seen his face light up when he saw me again. He has huge cheeks that seem permanently frozen into a bulging smile whenever I’m on screen. I hope that I get his cheeks so that I can smile like he does. Mom did her usual thing and stood behind Angie the Ultrasound Tech chattering away and asking a zillion questions. She did quite a bit of grinning herself, and if I’m not mistaken I’m sure that I saw her tear up a couple of times.  

Grandma Angie and Grandma Marilyn were tickled to see all of my moving. I put on an extra special show for them and moved my fingers in and out of my mouth and even let out a huge yawn after I had worn myself out from all of my playing.  

Most importantly, everything on me and in me has grown and developed just as it should. I’m healthy and even measuring two days ahead. Now my business is just to sit back, keep growing, and make my presence more known on the outside so that Mommy and Daddy can feel me moving by the time we get to our next appointment, which will be the week before Christmas.  

Mommy and Daddy’s business is to figure out what to call me. As Kym told you all before, my name is definitely Samuel Anthony, but whether or not I’ll be called Sam or Tony has still yet to be decided. While we were waiting to see Dr. Edwards, Kym said that she tends to call me Sam when I’m behaving, but calls me Tony when I’m up to my usual bladder-butting, cervix-stomping mischief or when I’m giving her heartburn. Mom and Grandma Angie call me Tony. Dad thinks we should wait until I’m born to see which name suits me best, but he’s leaning towards Sam, which of course is what Grandma Marilyn calls me.

Whether I am Sam or I am Tony, one thing I do know is that I am loved.

Well, over the next week or so, I was really, truly, honestly going to write a huge update of my pregnancy up through week 16, then write a single entry about this week, which is week 17. From there, I was going to get back into my old routine of religiously writing in my journal every 2-3 days. But then I found that yesterday, my dear, sweet, white-on-the-outside-black-on-the-inside best friend posted this in my comments:

I knoooooooow you had a huge u/s yesterday and that you have news to share!!! I can hardly stand the suspense! PLEASSEEEE, for the love of cheese, update your journal woman!

Love you!

Whenever dear Becky resorts to such painful food-related euphemisims such as “for the love of cheese” or “geez oh peaches,” I have no choice but to act and do whatever it is she wants so that it will be a while before I’m once again bombarded with such ridiculous wordings.

Yesterday we had another ultrasound. I’ve had ultrasounds every 3-4 weeks, first to check on the absorbtion of the vanishing twin sac, then to check for the nuchal transluscency. The second sac had completely absorbed by the 13th week of pregnancy. We also did the nuchal transluscency screening at that appointment. At least we tried to. The little stinker wouldn’t stay in a position so that Angie, the ultrasound tech, could get an acceptable view of the baby’s profile. Though she was unable to get a decent measurement of the nuchal fold, we did get several wonderful shots of Baby Ducky.

The week 13 u/s also showed something quite odd, which at first was a little alarming. We found what’s called a synechia. Basically, there’s a band of tissue going from one corner of the gestational sac to the other, kind-of diagonal across the upper-left hand corner of the sac. It divides the sac into two sides. Thankfully, the baby is completely contained in the larger of the sides.

The main problem that could arise from a synechia is if an appendage gets stuck in the band of tissue. This could cause abnormal growth or even amputation in severe cases. Dr. Edwards reassured us that the things the he would be worried about were not seen in our u/s. He felt that the second side was basically going to get squished out of the way or be reabsorbed, much the way a vanishing twin sac did. Dr. E felt that we had nothing to really worry about (but of course we all worried), and that we’d have a follow-up ultrasound in 4 weeks.

That appointment was yesterday, and thankfully, all is well with Baby Ducky! The “second sac” is still there, but it’s considerably smaller than it was a month ago at the last u/s. It’s now being squished out of the way just like Dr. Edwards expected. My regular anatomy growth scan u/s is in another 4 weeks and the synechia is not expected to be seen at all!

Baby Ducky was squirming all around and as for now, is sitting vertex, not that it matters much since I’ll be having a c-section anyway. The vertex position made for easy gender determination. Stephanie and Terry are having a…….

…………………..

………………..

……………………

BOY!!!!! I’ve felt that I was carrying a boy all along because while I was quite ill, I just wasn’t sick enough in the first trimester to feel like I was carrying a girl!

I hate that I didn’t think to take the camera with me on Tuesday because the look on Stephanie’s face was priceless. She put her hands on her hips and gaped at the screen with half a smirk on her face. I know she was praying for a healthy baby but was putting in extra prayers for a girl. There was no mistaking Ducky’s package because it was quite obvious and Steph saw it even with her u/s untrained eyes: “IF THAT’S A BOY, THOSE ARE HUGE BALLS!” It’s been a long time since I’ve reported any Stephanie-isms, and that one is classic!

She and Terry are absolutely in love with this little boy, who they’re naming Samuel Anthony. Anthony is after Steph’s dad who passed away when she was just 18 from a brain tumor, and Samuel is after Terry’s father and grandfather (who sadly passed away last week). Now if only they can decide on whether to call him Sam or Tony! 

So now, with the exception of little details here and there, you guys are caught up on the main points of the pregnancy thus far. There are other things going on in other areas of my life that I have to update on, so since I’ve now given the good stuff that everyone wants to hear about, I can start updating on those other things. Eh – that’ll happen next week. All this talk of peaches has Sam/Tony craving some, so I’m off to do his bidding and gorge myself on peach ice cream!

Uuummm….hello? Is anyone there? This mindless woman who is carrying me was insanely busy or half-sick through the first trimester. Added to the gastric damage that I was causing, typing seemed to complicate matters and make her dizzy or want to hurl. What little energy Kym had for typing, she had to apply to writing curriculum and administration papers and finishing up her 6-month, 48-page long research project. Now that she’s earned her Education Specialist degree and I’m not leaving her so sick that her head hangs listlessly over the bed while she moans “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot,” she now has the energy and the time to properly update this blog the way she’s supposed to. So hold tight, dear readers – Kym will have her butt in gear and a rather long update entry posted before the weekend is over. It’s either that or I’ve threatened to start yanking so hard on my umbilical cord that I cause a replay of the first trimester yuckies.

Sincerely,
   Baby Ducky

Well, we have two sacs, but only one has a baby in it thus far. The RE gave us about a 33% chance that the other baby will develop normally. In that sac, you could *maybe* make out what’s possibly a fetal pole squished right up against the bottom. The other baby looks GREAT, with a very distinct yolk sac. You can clearly see what’s the head and even a little arm bud. The heartbeat was clear and rapid, though I didn’t get any exact measurments.

On the whole, I feel absolutely ECSTATIC that we have a healthy baby growing. It would have been WONDERFUL to see two perfect babies in there, but all things considered, I’m very pleased that we see at least one healthy baby in there. Anything more than one to me is icing on the cake, and with the one healthy beanie that we have, I can’t feel too sad if the other can’t pull through.

What sadness I do feel is knowing that Stephanie is feeling very sad that the other may not make it. She is absolutely elated that she has a baby growing, but is still aching from the possible loss of the other baby, which I can certainly understand and empathize with.

Terry, on the other hand, who is usually Mr. Play-It-Cool-closet-worry-wart, is pretty much matching my mindset and is focusing on healthy Baby A. I could really see his worry lift from his shoulders once he saw the baby. I know that he was always waiting on this ultrasound to take that first real sigh of relief, and I can tell that he’s finally truly accepted the fact that he’s going to be a daddy finally!

We’re all hoping and praying for Baby B, but if it’s not in God’s will that he pull through, we know that we’re all blessed to have Baby A doing so well. Stephanie did make one of her classic jokes and said, “Well Kym, if we end up with one you better be ready to go again in a year ‘cuz I want two babies!”

We’re released to my OB (WOOOOO-HOOOO!!!), and we have our next appointment and ultrasound next Tuesday at 9:45. The only thing I have to be bothered with the RE for anymore is getting weaned off of my meds (WOOOO-FREAKIN’-HOOOO!!!). I’ll get blood work done once a week for about the next three weeks and will start weaning. First I’ll transition from the PIO shots to prometrium pills, then off of progesterone and estrogen altogether.

So, that’s the update! Thanks soooooo much for all of your support! I know that I have a whole clan of Kym-stalkers out there!

…and I have the bubble guts (BG’s) like you wouldn’t believe. This won’t be a particularly long post, because honestly, I’m too spazzed and focused on tomorrow’s ultrasound that I can’t keep a thought straight in my head long enough to type out anything that makes sense. There’s so much I want to write about, but I’m so focused on what’s going on inside of me that I don’t have the focus to write at length about what’s going on outside of me. I just feel like once we see a heartbeat (or heartbeats) tomorrow, I’ll finally be able to release a huge sigh of relief and this pregnancy can become a part of my daily life and not something over and above it, if that makes any sense.

Oh ye faithful readers, bear with me; I promise that my current writer’s block (caused by nerves) will be lifted once I get to come home tomorrow and report on what I KNOW has to be good news.

Well, I’ve been a very bad slacker. Thanks so much to two of my journal commentors – Shena (a self-proclaimed Kym stalker/lurker) and Bonquisha (who is the Black alter-ego of my very White best friend Becky) - for making me get up off of my duff and post a long-awaited update. Let me begin this post with a quote from my very first entry: 

1. I have serious writing blocks that seem to come in and out of remission.
2. I’m usually terribly longwinded.
3. I’m a shameless procrastinator. The one thing I never procrastinate on is procrastination.

The truth of the matter is that the reason why I haven’t written in a while has been probably 45% procrastination and 55% chicken-shit-ination. I got that positive beta of 24 at 5dp5dt and was thrilled beyond belief, then instantly went into a state of utter shock and disbelief. I’m pregnant? It actually *worked*? Get the heck outta here!

Then, I got scared. What if this was all some cruel joke and something crazy happened? What if this was a pregnancy that started off normal, even better than normal, then began a downward spiral into oblivion? I couldn’t help but think about how crazily happy I was when I got the first positives with the first transfer, then shellshock and devestating pain that followed when things didn’t go as planned in the rest of the 2ww. After getting back the early beta, I felt absolutely ecstatic on one hand, but in a small, nagging corner of my mind, I was afraid to let myself get too happy in the fear that as soon as I did, it would all be taken away from me.

Subsequent betas, which thankfully came back very high, helped to quell my disconcerting fear even more. Our first official beta at 9dp5dt was 274. I nearly had a heart attack when Jan called. First she called me, then called Stephanie on the other phone and put the both of us on speaker phone. When the number “274″ came out of her mouth, both Stephanie and I exclaimed, “WHAT!?!” For you non-surrogacy/IVF folks, at 9dp5dt, an average beta number would have been around 100. Numbers far in excess of that can indicate multiples. Obviously, we were way above average. Beta numbers are expected to double (or at least have an 80% increase) about every two days. Two days later, our 11dp5dt beta was 647, so we more than doubled. Rapidly increasing betas can also be an early indication of multiples. Mmmhmmm – from the information regarding this pregnancy that we have so far (early positives on home pregnancy tests, high betas, and rapidly rising betas), the indication is that both of the Pizzas (as Stephanie calls them) seem to have stuck.

Of course, it could go either way, as there is a wide range of what is considered normal for betas. We could have a singleton growing, but I’ll honestly be more surprised if there is one growing than if there are twins. Our first ultrasound is still a long, long, looooonnnngggg 7 days away. People who transferred after we did are going for their first ultrasounds this week; such cruelty to make us wait so long! The good thing is that we’ll be 7w2d along, so we should see more than just barely-perceptible blobs.

Symptom-wise, morning sickness is starting to kick-in in full swing. I haven’t actually tossed my cookies yet, but I thought for sure I was going to be seeing my lunch and dinner again today. I’m fairly sure that I’ll be tossing my cookies by the end of this week. I’m honestly pretty happy about that, as sick as it sounds!

Something interesting about the morning sickness: earlier last week was when the first fleeting moments of nausea started kicking in. One thing I noticed last week that was  different from my own pregnancies was that my nausea seemed to start in the evenings after dinner. With each of my pregnancies, the first twinges of nausea started in the morning and lasted all day. Last Thursday was a long workday for me because it was the last day of pre-planning and afterwards, Open House was from 3-6. Stephanie called around 5 thinking that I’d be home, and chatted with Frank for a while instead. She mentioned to him that she was anxious to see if this pregnancy would give me any symptoms that she had during her pregnancies since I was pregnant with her babies, and as an example, told Frank that her morning sickness started in the evening after dinner and would last all night. She was very surprised and tickled to hear from Frank that my m/s was creeping in at night. It will be fun to continue to compare and contrast stats through the pregnancy.

I’m also already popping out of my clothes. I had Frank drag my maternity clothes storage box out of the garage last week, and most of what I’ve worn have been maternity pants. I can fit my regular pants, but the snug fit aggravates the nausea so I avoid them altogether. When I was pregnant with Kyra and Jaiden, I was in maternity clothes 24/7 by the time I hit 8 weeks, and with Jordan and Kaelyn it was around 10 weeks. I’m definitely an early popper, and this pregnancy doesn’t seem to be any different.

Exhaustion. Almost right from the start, I’ve been tired day in and day out. Now that I’m back to work, one of my first thoughts upon waking up is, “How much longer until I can go back to sleep?” Generally, I’m a night owl and can function on 5-6 hours of sleep. Now, I’m lucky if I can make it past 9:00 without falling asleep. When I was pregnant with the twins, I missed half a season of ER because I couldn’t stay up to 10:00 no matter how hard I tried. The new season of Nip/Tuck starts September 5. Thank you, oh ye inventors of digital video recorders.

Speaking of exhaustion, it’s now 20 minutes past my mental pregnancy shut down time of 9:00. There will be more updates in the days to come as there’s a lot that I need to get caught up on in the other important area of my life – the twins started kindergarten last week, and I’ve been given the honor of supervising a first-year teacher and a student teacher this year.  I’m very excited about those things, and can’t wait to start writing about them. Actually, I can wait. I’m just too danged tired right now to do anything other than go to sleep.

Well, after all the pregnancy tests that I’ve taken…and all the waiting that I’ve done….and all of the obsessing…and after all of the wonderful support from my buddies at SMO and from my family and friends, I wish that didn’t have to say…..

………that  unfortunately………….   

                                                                                               
I won’t be posting on the Two Week Wait board at SMO for much longer because today’s beta came back at 24!!!

Karen (the head nurse) said that the number was GREAT for being so early and said that that number is the LEAST the doctor would want to see for someone coming in on 14 dpo for their beta! I checked on IVFer and the beta chart for 5dpt goes to 7dpt at the lowest. According to that, average for 7dp5dt is 48, so counting backwards, my beta is average for 5dp5dt! :hop: Now to just wait it out to the official beta on Wednesday on 10dp5dt!

I couldn’t help it and just had to tell Stephanie and Terry. They were in the store shopping for a few last minute things before their reception tonight (they’re in New York for their belated wedding reception and family reunion). Stephanie was going on about how she had just sent me an email about the string test that her aunt had just done over her wrist. The myth is that you tie your wedding ring to an end of a string then hold it over your wrist. The direction that the ring swings supposedly tells you if you’re having a boy or a girl. Steph’s went both ways. She took it as a sign and got all giddy, then had the feeling like I might need to take a test this afternoon because she thought it might turn out positive (little did she know, :haha:).

So when she said, “I just have the feeling that you’re pregnant!” I said, “I am pregnant.”

Stephanie: WHAT!?! 

Me: Well, I’ve been peeing for a couple of days and getting ghost lines that have now turned darker. I got a couple of positive digitals this morning and those both came up PREGNANT.

Steph: (to her mom, her daughter, and Terry) SHE’S PREGNANT!!! (now squealing and OH MY GOD’ing)
Terry: She’s WHAT!?!  *then mumbles something incomprehensible in the background*

Steph: (excitedly and talking a million miles per hour) Terry says we still need to wait to go to the doctor for the blood test!

Me: I’ve been to the doctor. I went this morning to Dr. Edwards’ office and had an early beta. It’s positive. It’s 24, which is a good bit higher than what the doctor was expecting right about now.

Steph: *repeats the same to the group in a flurry of words*

Terry: OH MY GOD!

From there, we talked for a while about beta levels, etc. This is their first IVF ever and first time learning about everything, so they get most of their knowledge from me. This whole journey, I’ve basically explained the next steps and what they can expect, so I again went through the whole “doubling beta” lesson again and said that 24 is a really safe number for right now. They’re excited, and I know that for all of us it will start to sink in more next week when we have our official betas!

To my SMO girls … thanks for helping me keep my sanity the past few days! I know that half of you probably want to wring my neck for playing the nasty little prank of making you wait so long, then have to come to my journal to find out the results! Would I be the Queen of the PISSERS without making you guys work for it?

To my special buddies Becky, Sarah, Sharona, Catherine, and Stephanie R. (who I spent an entire day of bed rest chatting with on Yahoo messenger) – were it not for you guys, I would have had a nervous meltdown if it wasn’t for your words of support and ultimate faith that this was going to work out.

And to my family, especially my Aunt Karon (who had to pull over on the highway when I called her with the good news), who all delivered God’s message that this was all going to work out! That Sunday at the family reunion is what has, and will continue to give me strength in these early days where we’ll continue to get strengthening confirmation of this pregnancy.

Okay, this is not the Academy Awards. I’ll stop my acceptance speech. But I just have to say that the embryos must like me!!! They REALLY, REALLY like me!!! (shameless lame attempt at mimicking Sally Field’s Academy Award acceptance speech).

When I was trying to get pregnant with our first child, I handled the two week wait much differently. I held out for as long as I could without testing, not knowing at the time that one could test positive before her period was due. It had honestly never entered my mind to test early. Then one night a few days shy of the end of our second Clomid cycle, I had a dream that made me want to rush right out and get a pregnancy test.  

I dreamed that I had taken a new-fangled pregnancy that would not only tell you whether or not you were pregnant, but it would also tell you whether you were having a boy or a girl. A blue wavy line represented a boy, and a pink wavy line would mean a girl. In the dream, I peed on the test and got both a blue line and a pink line, indicating that we were pregnant with boy/girl twins. I woke up with my heart pounding. It was so real, that I woke up feeling a little dejected once I realized that it was just a dream. However, I did feel like it must have been some sort of sign, because I had never before dreamed of getting a positive pregnancy test.  

I managed to hold out one more day before going to the store to look at pregnancy tests. I had no intention of testing that day, but I figured that at least having my tests in the house would temper just a bit of the anticipation. So after school, my sister Dani (who at the time was in the 7^th grade) and I headed to Wal-Mart. I moseyed over to the aisle where the pregnancy tests were, and lo and behold – there was a new test that could detect pregnancy a full four days before your period was due! I snatched up one box of First Response Early Detection tests (FREDs), with my plans to wait on testing chucked clearly out of the window. I was actually five days away from the end of my cycle, but figured that one little day probably wouldn’t make too much of a difference. It was Halloween, and the only things that we came out with were a ton of candy and that one box of pregnancy tests.  

Upon entering the house, I dropped the bags on the kitchen table and raced to the bathroom with my box of FREDs. I had taken a hundred pregnancy tests before and had even taken a few of the regular First Response pregnancy tests, but I read through every word of the instructions before testing. I sat down on the toilet and used a little cup to catch some of the pee. I carefully dipped the test for exactly 5 seconds, then recapped it (with the stick pointing down, of course), then placed it on the edge of the tub to my right to wait out the three minutes it would take to read the results.  

After exactly one minute passed, I casually glanced over at the test just to be sure that it was working, just as the instructions said to do. I wasn’t expecting to see anything just yet, so my heart dropped when I saw that there were already two dark lines on my pregnancy test. Two lines. Two lines? TWO LINES!?! I had never before, in the zillions of tests that I had taken, gotten two lines. I think I must have sat there for a full minute absolutely shell-shocked, then suddenly snapped out of my stupor to frantically grab the instruction leaflet to be sure that on these new tests, two lines didn’t all of the sudden mean negative. When I confirmed that yes, two lines still meant pregnancy, I cried.  

My heart continued to pound, but at some point I was able to hear Frank walk in the door over the deafening sound of my racing heartbeat. I took off down the hall (with my pants still down around my ankles) to get Frank. I remembered to pull up my britches just before entering our bedroom (wouldn’t that have been his lucky day, to come home to find his wife greeting him with her pants off). I simply took him by the hand, and without saying a word, I lead him to the bathroom. I put the test in his hand and said nothing. At first he had a blank expression on his face. Then I could see a cautious twinkle in his eyes as he asked, “What’s this mean?” Now, he’d seen tons of my negative tests, so I knew that he was just asking out of disbelief and needed me to confirm his hope that this time I might really be pregnant, much in the same way that I needed to reread the leaflet. “You mean…it worked?” As I nodded my head, his eyes began to water and he grabbed me into a huge hug.  

About a week later, we found out that we were pregnant with twins. At 20 weeks of pregnancy, we found out that we were, indeed, pregnant with a girl and a boy. Talk about your wildest dreams coming true.  

Now, I’m just a few hours shy of being 4dp5dt (4 days past a transfer of 5 day old embryos, for you non-surrogacy/IVF people), and I’m finally far enough past transfer where I could possibly see a positive pregnancy test. It’s still very early and I might have a few days more to wait before seeing anything, but I’m definitely now in that window.

Last night I had the second positive pregnancy test dream that I’ve ever had. This dream was quite simple, really. It was late at night, and just before bed I went into the bathroom to do my final-pee-of-the-night round of pregnancy testing. One test was a new design, and the result window measured about 3 x 3 inches. I also used a Dollar Tree test. I used a dropper to put a few drops of pee into the testing wells, then left the tests on the bathroom counter to process for three minutes. When I came back, there were faint, but VERY obvious pink lines on both of the tests. I brought them into the bedroom for Frank to review, and after glancing at them for one second, Frank said, “Now THAT’S positive!” And that was it. I could feel myself grinning and thinking of how I was going to tell Stephanie and Terry that it worked, but you know what happened next – I woke up. Dangit. Just a dream, but I’m taking it as sign of good things to come.  

Frank and I woke up promptly at 6:00 to be sure we left home by 7:00. I had to be there at 8 am with a full bladder. I had been given instructions to not pee when I got up. In my half-awake state, it wasn’t until I was halfway to the toilet before I remembered my instructions. Even if I would have forgotten, Frank had followed me into the bathroom to give a friendly reminder – he barged past me, went to the toilet, started peeing, then looked over his shoulder and said, “You can’t pee.” I don’t think I was imagining things when I saw him smirk a little bit. Given the persistent twinge in my bladder, I was tempted to chuck my hairbrush at the back of his head.  

I dressed in the matching shirts that I designed (with the help of fellow surrogate, Kimmy) for Stephanie and me to wear to the transfer. Here is the design for the back. Stephanie’s is the same, except it says “Proud Expectant Mommy.”  

Before leaving, I burned a CD with repeats of “With Arms Wide Open” by Creed and “Happy Feelings” by Frankie Beverly and Maze. “With Arms Wide Open” is a song that reminds me of my own pregnancies and “Happy Feelings” is the song that was playing at the moment my mom found out that she was pregnant with me. I hadn’t thought of that particular song in a long while. Friday morning after finding out that we were going to do a 5-day transfer, that song just suddenly popped into my head. All of the sudden I felt a sort-of peace wash over me, and I took that as God telling me to just quit my worrying and let Him do His job.  

We managed to leave the house on time, and I played my CD all the way to
Savannah, no doubt driving Frank half insane. I considered it payback for him flaunting his empty bladder. I made sure to drink the 32 ounce bottle of GREEN lime/kiwi-strawberry Gatorade before 7:30, that way it was sure to be in my bladder by the time we arrived at the clinic.  

Steph and Terry arrived shortly after Frank and I did, and by then, I had visions of toilets dancing in my head. Stephanie and Terry were obviously very nervous, but relieved that we had finally made it to this day that we have looked forward to for so long. Stephanie described her emotions as feeling like she was coming to get her babies from the hospital after having to leave them there after an early delivery. As usual, Terry was quiet, but I could see the subtle look of anticipation.  

After squirming around in my seat for about 40 minutes (pure torture), I was finally called back. I gave a quick round of hugs, then followed Carolyn out of the main office and down the hall to the OR and recovery rooms.  

And here is where the transfer story begins to get funny, and very different than the last one. With the last transfer, Frank, Paul, and Sarah were allowed back. The lights were dim, there was soft music playing in the background…and I only had to take off my bottoms and cover with a sheet. Carolyn escorted me to the recovery room and instructed me to go into the bathroom and take off everything except my bra and to store my clothes and shoes in the little cubbies that were in there. I had to put on the standard sexy, butt out hospital gown, rubber-footed socks, and blue cap.  

Next, she took me into the OR. Now, I know that there was tons of medical equipment in the room, but I honestly can’t remember too much of all the little details. Only a few things stood out to me – the ultrasound machine, the largest suspended medical spotlight that I think I’ve ever seen, and the door in the corner that was obviously the way into the embryology lab, since I could hear Dr. Blohm and the embryologist tinkering around in there. But what my eyes instantly zeroed in on was the huge, wedge-shaped pillow that was positioned at the end of the bed.  

My initial thought was “What the heck kind-of freaky set-up is this!?!” My second thought was, “That thing looks like one of those sexual enhancement pillows.” The taller side of the wedge was HIGH…it had to have been at least 18 inches.  

Carolyn lowered the bed, put a step stool at the end, then asked me to sit on the edge of the pillow and slowly lean back. It was so tall that I still had to stand on my tiptoes to get my butt up high enough. As soon as I lay back, my unfortunately large size 42DD boobs rolled back, hit me in the chin, and practically suffocated me. Once I got into position, I was able to dig my heels into the bar at the end of the bed for support. Next, Carolyn raised the bed so that you-know-what would be eye-level with Dr. Blohm.  

Then, the lights were dimmed and all of the sudden I found my “chooty-choo” (as Stephanie would say) front and center under the 1,000 mega-watt spotlight. I could literally feel the heat from that lamp.  

First Blohm wanted to check my lining and how much fluid I had in my bladder. Carolyn rolled back the sheet then pulled up the gown until it was just above my navel. I basically had just a thin strip of cloth running from hip to hip. Carolyn pressed hard with the ultrasound thingy and I thought my bladder would explode. Thankfully, my fluid was at an acceptable level and I didn’t have to empty any or add more (thank God). Then he used several ginormous swabs to “clean the fluid away from the cervix and disinfect it.” All I could think was “Please, God, don’t let me pee on him.” Good times, man. Good times. 

Dr. Blohm disappeared through the door to get Steph and Terry’s babies. When he came out, I asked him what he was transferring. He let me know that he had two beautiful blastocysts, and I nearly cried. Carolyn told me to hold very still while Dr. Blohm guided the catheter into my uterus. I closed my eyes and prayed while trying to visualize the two blasts snuggling in for the long haul. After what felt like a couple of minutes he finished, then went to be sure that both blasts had made it out of the catheter, which they had.  

Finally, Carolyn covered me back up and my girlie parts were no longer on display and lowered the bed. I was hoping that I’d be able to leave the kama sutra pillow behind, but no such luck; I was wheeled into a corner of the recovery room and sheltered behind a curtain. Carolyn asked if my bladder would give me at least 20 minutes positioned like that. As much as I needed to pee, I felt sure that I could make it at least that long, and told her so from behind my shield of boobs. Before leaving, she gave me a little remote control call button. 

I tried to take advantage of the quiet abd take a nap, but the screaming in my bladder was becoming quite loud. Through the next 20 minutes, I could hear Carolyn and Dr. Blohm coming in and out while doing someone else’s transfer. Once the next patient was wheeled into the recovery area next to me, Carolyn poked her head in and asked if I was okay or if I needed to go to the bathroom. I told her that I’d be able to get through the next 30 minutes of bed rest if I went to the bathroom. I don’t know how I managed to get my rear end down from the pillow without peeing all over myself, but I did. I shuffled over to the bathroom and quickly sat down on the toilet – pure bliss, I tell you. It easily had to be the most satisfying pee of my life.  

Thankfully, upon returning to my bed I found that Carolyn had turned the 50-ways-to-satisfy-your-lover pillow so that the tall side was facing the top of the bed. She said that I could now lay flat and just drape my legs over the pillow so that they were elevated. That was much more comfortable, and without the pressing need to pee and the weight of my boobs on my chin, I was able to snooze away the last 30 minutes.  

After the 30 minutes was over, Carolyn returned with my lab slips and post-transfer instructions. Immediately after leaving, I had to go downstairs to the lab to get my estrogen and progesterone levels checked. I also got a lab slip for a beta 10 days from today. I’m to spend the rest of the day on bed rest at home, only getting up to use the bathroom. Finally, I was allowed to get dressed and leave the recovery room.  I found Stephanie, Terry, and Frank waiting for me in the hall. We all exchanged hugs again; the relief on all of our faces was apparent.  

On the way to the lab, I chatted about the above experience. Stephanie let me know that amazingly, there were still 5 blasts growing. Even the one that had slowed down was still alive. Blohm was going to let them grow for a bit longer and then freeze the ones that still had potential. He guaranteed that Stephanie and Terry would have a least two snowbabies, which was a great releif to us all. Stephane then showed me the picture of the blasts that were transferred. They looked wonderful, and I don’t think that we could have asked for better:
 Stephanie said that when Carolyn came out to let them know that the transfer was complete, Terry became overwhelmed when he saw the picture of the blasts. He had to leave Frank and Stephanie for a moment to compose himself. I know that he’s very nervous and very thankful that we’ve actually made it this long way, and I hope and pray that this all turns out the way we’re hoping that it does. 

Once my blood was drawn, we asked the phlebotomist to take some pictures for us:

  Finally, we exchanged hugs again and parted ways to wait out the next ten days, but not before Stephanie leaned over and told her babies to “be good and stick like they were supposed to.”On the way home, I called Sarah, Catherine, and Becky to give them the updates that I know they were anxiously awaiting. I also chowed down on McDonald’s french fries. I finally made it home and settled in for my bed rest, and Kaelyn decided to join me:

Stay tuned through the next ten days…the peefest is about to begin!