Let's talk about eggs, baby...

Welcome back!

Now I know you've all been anxiously checking my blog to see if I have posted another thrilling update on the medical journal that is my life - well congratulations! Today is that day! Make yourselves comfy (and maybe pour yourselves a drink) because you're in for a pretty long tale...

Last time I posted I was midway through my injections and scans, which feels like a hundred years ago now, this post is to tell you all that we have now gone through the whole fertility journey and out the other side. Phew! It has been an extremely long and emotional ride, one which I will try to summarise for you on a day-by-day basis, here goes:

Monday
This was the big, long-awaited 'egg collection' day. At 8.45am we rocked up to the fertility clinic in St Paul's (London, if anyone reading this isn't from the UK - in which case a big hello to you wherever you are, I hope the weather's lovely). Now, I really don't want to tell you in detail how eggs are harvested; it is a particularly 'intimate' procedure and I don't really want you to have to picture it. You're welcome. If you desperately want to know then here's a copy and pasted version from the 'Egg Donor Information Project' website (https://web.stanford.edu/class/siw198q/websites/eggdonor/procedures.html):

"Eggs are retrieved from the donor through transvaginal ultrasound aspiration, a surgical procedure performed under conscious sedation. (See figure below). Using a tube attached to an ultrasound probe, a physician guides a suctioning needle into each ovary and removes mature oocytes from the follicles."

There you go, I couldn't have put it better myself. From my perspective all I know is that I went to the operating theatre, had a truly awesome nap and when I woke up I was missing some eggs. Eight eggs to be exact. I don't know if that is a good number and to be honest I don't care if it wasn't, that was just how many they harvested. Then we went home. 
And that concludes Monday's adventure.

Tuesday
On this day I received a phone-call to tell me how the fertilisation of my eggs was coming along. I'm warning you now, this was a bad day.
Apparently my eggs had already started to show cells dividing; I'm sure that you think, as I also thought - "Well that's great news, right?" Wrong. It was then explained to me that this doesn't normally happen until day 2, if it happens on day 1 then often it means that they are abnormal or unlikely to get to the stage where they are able to be frozen. So in summary, I potentially would have zero embryos in their giant freezer. Needless to say, many tears were shed that day. The clinic said they would 'sit' on my embryos for a few days before discarding them, just in case. That's nice of them, isn't it?

Thursday
Another phone-call today, for someone who hates talking on the phone this week has been particularly taxing! During this particular call I was informed that four of my eight embryos actually appeared to be doing what they were meant to (finally!) and two of them looked very likely to be able to be frozen on day 5. Now I know that doesn't sound like many but as I was expecting to be told that they'd all have to be disposed of this was good news. No tears were shed this day, which was pretty good as the crying stuff was starting to make me a bit dehydrated if I'm honest.

Today 
Apologies for the long story, it's coming to an end I promise! Today I received a final phone-call letting me know that out of the four promising-ish embryos, they were able to freeze two. I feel like I should be highly disappointed about this outcome but weirdly I feel super relieved that it's over and I have anything in the freezer at all. That's enough embryos for one transfer cycle, so for now that's enough. I may not need them at all (which would be amazing) but they are there just in case. If it's meant to be it will happen, right?

There ends my fertility clinic journey (hopefully forever, but who knows?) next step - chemotherapy. It just keeps getting better and better! My first dose is scheduled for the 19th April, so a week on Wednesday. Again, instead of being worried I've surprised myself by just being relieved that's it's starting. The quicker it starts then the quicker it ends and I for one cannot wait to see what I look like with a shiny, bald head. That's a joke, I'm currently having daily pep talks with my hair and begging it not to leave me!

So in summary, I would make a terrible chicken. In fact, I probably would be the kind of chicken that graces your dinner table rather than sits there laying eggs. Lucky old me!

Tune in next time for the not depressing at all update about chemotherapy. I promise to be cheerful if you promise to read it. Deal?

Love, Meg xx

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