I lied in my last post.
We attempted round 2.
Well I say we attempted. I followed what I was told to do and have at least 1 cycle before thinking about the 2 frozen embryos. My cycle came and went and I was ready. I wouldn’t have been ready had I had to do the whole process again, but the frozen embryo transfer was more straight forward.
Find out when you’re ovulating. Wait 5 days. Plonk the embryo back in. Cross your fingers.
The clinic is 45 minutes from my house. In the morning traffic it takes an hour and a half. I can cope with that. If I’m lucky I get into the car-park – if not it’s the multi-storey. I can’t cope so well with that (I wasn’t gifted with spacial awareness).
Starting the frozen embryo transfer process we were given 2 options – 1) Have a natural cycle, have scans to find out when you’re ovulating and go from there, or 2) Medically induce your cycle with injections so you know exactly when you’re ovulating and go from there.
It might sound silly because none of this process is natural but I if I could have this small part as naturally as I possibly could, I wanted to try. Also, if I didn’t have to spend £400 on additional injections, that would be helpful. The risk? Ovulating on a Tuesday. 5 days after Tuesday is Sunday – they’re closed so no transfer could happen.
But that’s a 1 in 7 chance. I accepted those odds.
My app told me I was ovulating on a Saturday – good news – and was advised to go into the clinic on the Wednesday for a scan and blood tests. The hour and a half journey – I can cope with that.
Not quite ready – come back Friday.
Not quite ready – come back Saturday.
Not quite ready – come back Monday. Perilously close to Tuesday…
Not quite ready -you might ovulate today. Or Tuesday. Or Wednesday. Fingers crossed.
Tuesday – you’ve had a hormone surge. Let’s hope it’s Wednesday.
Wednesday – you ovulated yesterday – we’ll have to cancel this round. Come back in a month and we’ll try again.
My husband – the eternal optimist – “Well we know when you ovulated and we ‘did it’. This might be our month!” In a way I’m glad I no longer have that optimism as the disappointment hurts too much.
A month in infertility world is a long time. No one seems to get it. “Well at least you can have a drink at the wedding this weekend.” I’d give anything for that precious little blob on the scan to stop me from being able to have a drink at the wedding at the weekend.
This was a month ago. I got my period today (optimism squashed), so tomorrow I’m going back to the clinic to find out about how to do my frozen embryo transfer the medically induced way. That £400 will be worth not having it fall on a Tuesday again.
This leaves me feeling selfish in the thought that I’ve had for the last month. Why can’t they open on a Sunday? The rest of the hospital does?