Freaking excellent? Totally?
Far evermore than.
Filibuster extenuating trance.
Further exhilirating terror.
Frame enter terrific.
Fabulous entrapment tomorrow?
Frozen embryo transfer.
Which of these is not like the other?
No, you have not stumbled upon the lesson plan for an English As A Second Language course.
Frozen embryo transfer. FET.
Yep, there's another acronym.
Had my first one at 12.23pm today. Wow.
Once again, at this moment (I think), I am pregnant.
My first little frozen embie...my chilly goog (thanks Jack, told you I would steal that term)...was implanted inside me today.
I took a sick day, whizzed down to Brisbane with T while Jay went about his normal day care business.
Before we knew it, we had parked the car, risen to the fourth floor in the lift and were told theatre was running early (when does that ever happen?) and we were both suddenly thrust into ridiculous hospital attire.
T resplendent in purple and a white paper hat, me naked from the waist with a random brown checked nightie and rather cosy white waffle gown...and white paper hat and toe-curling blue booties.
Right. "Just down this corridor," the nurse guided us. A fellow in blue who could very well have been a Grey's Anatomy extra shook our hand and introduced himself as Tony.
That meant nothing to me, so I assumed he was standing in for our regular IVF doc boss man. No, turned out he was the scientist.
As I settled on the gurney, and took one frightened glance at the large black stirrups, he came over and showed me some paperwork pertaining to our little embie.
"We have a very healthy embryo," he said, while referring to some numbers that looked like fractions.
"It divided into four cells straight away, which is what we want to see and then went to six, and eight and 10 and then it got to 12...after that we stop counting, as the cells divide so quickly."
Wow, little one. So, so young and little and I am proud of your strength and vitality already?
Is it possible for an adult human to be so amazed by what is tantamount to just a bunch of cells?
Hell yes. I certainly was today. Amazed. Awed.
Alright most of that awe was reserved for the science and the brains behind that science and the personnel actually carrying out these scientific prinicples in this day and age...but a big chunk of that awe was certainly reserved in a very special place for our little embie.
And god it was so good to have T in there with me today...not out in the waiting room having to entertain Jay. She held my hand and looked into my eyes in the seconds after the FET happened. Thanks baby, love you.
It was great. We smiled and were once more united in a new round of hope.
Reassuring shoulder rubs, hand shakes and eye contact lingers from no less than five medical staff and we were ready to go home.
Just like that.
I certainly feel different this time. Perhaps more realistic, and yes, honestly, a bit more calm.
I find I am not flitting about in my mind saying silly things to myself and making sillier bargains with myself.
I found myself thinking a few days ago about the possibility that this one would not take. My first reaction was to shut down such silly talk. Instantly, within a split second.
"If you think it, it will happen, STOP THAT!" But a new reaction followed that first one. It shut down that hysterical superstitious voice and told me to calm the freak down. It could happen, it could also...not.
I could lose it, I could also...not. Yes, it's a horrible limbo that I have no control over - but I have been there before and I feel strengthened by that, even if it was just once before.
You know I love my words. I love them too much in fact. I smother my words with way too much love. I am a suffocating linguist. A linguistic suffocator. Do you get my point??
But today, the circumstances dictated the need for just five...and they were a missive to a very specific recipient.
We love you, please stay.
**A small post-script to this, um, post: you know the cost I was rabbiting on about last post? We got the definitive answer today.
That's how much it costs for each FET.
We think we will get about $600 of that back.
I spoke to a clinic rep and asked to be told what that actually paid for, given that we were under the impression that the thousands of dollars we paid a few months back covered us for these subsequent transfers. She was vague and said something about it paying the scientist and the equipment, or something.
I am still not convinced, but hell, I can't do anything about it!
But you know the funny thing? I asked T on the way home how much cash we had left in our IVF fund.