FET Day one

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.

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.
$1800.
That's how much it costs for each FET.
$1800.
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.
Her answer?
$1800.

Performance anxiety

Ok, keeping it short and sweet people. (MasterChef, get your hooks out of me!)

Right, so these may not be the most helpful thoughts at this particular juncture, given that I shall be having my first frozen embryo transfer in less than 48 hours, but they are nonetheless flying about in the flotsam of my mind right now...and they are honest.

Firstly, and this has always been in the back of my mind: T got pregnant first go with Jay when she went through IVF three years ago.

She is three years older than me and had two embryos put in as a result. One morphed into the mysterious ether of non-existence, the other became Jay.

So, if my memories of Year 9 debating serve me, the negative in the argument That Bec Should Be In A Pregnancy Competition With Her Partner would say that, no, so much more was riding on that initial transfer for T. Um, there was no fall-back, no Plan B. The only "try again" option we had was to start a whole new round of IVF...injections, ovary stimulation, hormones, egg pick-up and all. For that reason, and many others we will never know, that one spectacular embryo stuck. Apart from that, and this would be the sting in the third speaker's summation, competition is stupid unless you are in the Olympics. Get over yourself, Leo.

The affirmative, however, would postulate that, damn straight, it happened first go for her: you are both healthy and committed in a stable, supportive and loving relationship - why the hell should it not happen first go for you? You have every right to be disappointed now that hasn't been the case. You should feel indignant that history has not repeated. Why? No one can answer that, but don't feel bad for asking, or even thinking about the answers to, that question.

And you know one other massive reason to get pregnant ASAP? It pains me to say it, but economics clouds so much of our lives, especially when you feel so stretched each week that you are nearly transparent.

The cost.

According to a forum post T found this morning, the charge for a natural frozen embryo transfer cycle with a clinic in another state is apparently $2350. Estimated out of pocket costs are $941...but there is some potential issue with Medicare over rebate amounts (isn't there always?).

So, that was today's little surprise. Each frozen transfer is going to cost about a grand.

So what? And I understand that - I feel that way too. What is money when you are talking about creating a new life who will walk this Earth and bless our family with his or her laughter, anger, opinions, flair, love and so much more? This is the path we have chosen of our own free will, we knew it would be expensive. I get that alright!

But I can't help the anxiety. Huh, and you can write that one down to hand to the stonemason, cos that one's going on my headstone. That's if I was going to be buried, and I am not. **Stream of consciousness alert: I want to be cremated cos I read a book ages ago about all these graves in olde England...and you know I'm talking a long time ago, cos I put an E on the end of old. But not that old that England gets an E, as in Englande. That would just be stupid. Anyway, they used to tie a piece of string around the fingers of the bodies when they buried them and run that string all the way to the top of the earth, attached to a bell in the headstone. Apparently, in OLDE England (or some such place wherever it was) there was quite a problem with the burying of people alive. Now that right there is one of my worst, WORST, fears. Yes, it's as irrational as my fear of spiders, Tony Abbott's ears and the ability of a man like George Bush to attain the office of president. And you know what they say about tying string around your finger - that's how you remember stuff, you don't forget it. Frankly, I would have thought tying a piece of string around your finger would remind you pretty damn smartly to take the freaking thing off as surely it would cut off some sort of circulation, right? Anyhoo, I will never forget the olde England buried alive reference. Hell, it could have been fiction...could have been some Mary Higgins Clark hoodoo...but it struck a very strange, probably flat, chord in my crazy mind. For a split second, I did question the logistics of such finger-tying of string...how to ensure it remained intact linking body and bell, why you wouldn't completely freak out as soon as you saw someone coming towards you with a ball of string, a pine box and a shovel etc ("Here they come! Those dodgy undertakers who are a little too enthusiastic about their jobs! Run!!"), but the fear removed logic from any talk of logistics. So, with that in mind, there is no way I am going to be buried six feet under. Nope, disco inferno all the way for me, baby. **Meanwhile, back at the ranch.

Look, that anxiety is not huge, it doesn't now taint my every waking moment. But it is there.

Just another speck of dust on my mountain of insecurity/uncertainty.

ET, phone hooray!

Good evening.

Really quick cos I am freezing and desperate to dive under my doona: doc's office rang today...

First words were: "Can you have another blood test?"

Life? Ain't she a funny freaking prankster?

So that was my fourth blood test in eight days - yee haa!

BUT, despite telling me I needed another blood, I AM BOOKED IN FOR AN EMBRYO TRANSFER NEXT TUESDAY.

Hang on ET, hang on in your little bicycle basket with your little white towel over your head - I am coming!

Double yee haa (for the purists: yee yee haa haa).

How cool is that?

And what made for an ultra nice change was the lovely blood test taking lady.

A) There was no attitude over bulk billing issues. And B) she actually beamed a beamy smile at me as I left and wished me luck for Tuesday (I had filled her in on what I was doing briefly. Well I thought I ought to...she would have taken one look at the punctures in my arm and no doubt suspected all manner of heroin junkie things).

So Tuesday people. Toot toot - ALL ABOARD THE EXCITEMENT TRAIN.

!

Science speak

Ok, so I spoke to the IVF clinic scientist today who ran me through my freeze record.

What an inordinately bizarre sentence that was.

That's what my little list of chilly embryos is called apparently: a freeze record.
So, up until this afternoon when I had a 20-minute chat with the scientist, I had thought of those seven frozen embryos as fairly equal in vitality.
Now, I know a bit better.
Apparently the scientists grade them and the average is Grade Two (Three is the best, and rarely bestowed, the equivalent of a Nobel Peace Prize in embryo world).
They also then like to only freeze the ones that show a division of more than two cells, at least, by the time a few days have passed after fertilisation.
And mine are all Grade Twos...and among them are three two-cells, two three-cells, one four-cell and one five-cell.

They will thaw the five-cell first and then progress down the line, if need be.
See, the thing is, there is a 70-80% survival rate in the thawing process. That's a good stat, in my book.

Some do not continue to divide, some show some lacerations or irregular cell development...and it just doesn't work.
But the scientist did say the "vast majority" continue to divide. A good stat.
I asked her what the difference was between pregnancy success in fresh versus frozen embryo transfers.

Apparently for someone my age, there is a 40% chance of getting pregnant with a fresh embie, and a 30% chance if I go frozen.
But she did say that rate is always going to be less because the very best embies - the pick of the bunch - are put in first, and fresh. So, grain of salt.

Still, whether you're talking about 30 or 40%, it doesn't sound very high, does it? Bad, bad stat.
But despite the differences in success rates in fresh versus frozen, the fact is pregnancies do result from frozen transfers every year...all the time.

I finished off our informative conversation by telling her that perhaps it was an occupational hazard thing that demanded I be so questioning and over-informed (I'm a journalist).
And I do feel more reassured knowing more than I probably need to...perhaps.
Yes, I do.

The uncertainty was beginning to niggle.
Beginning to?
Who am I kidding.
It always has.