Mock Transfer - Check!

I had my mock embryo transfer yesterday, but it’s not much of a story.  That is fine with me, because it means everything went smoothly!  I can tell that it was just another day at work for my nurse and doctor, and I loved the sensation of getting swept along by them in the routine of things they’ve done a million times.  It made me feel hopeful, like we don’t need magic, just these people doing what they do every day.

Anyway, here’s a collection of random thoughts about it:

A mock transfer (which includes a saline sonogram) doesn’t hurt nearly as much as an HSG.  I’m not sure why – both involve catheters and liquid in your uterus – but I’m not going to question it. (If you know why, leave it in the comments… I’m really curious). It was a little uncomfortable during and leaky afterwards, but nothing terrible.

I really don’t mind getting transvaginal ultrasounds, and am fascinated with seeing my own uterus and ovaries on the screen.  I do, however, hate only undressing from the waist down; I feel like Donald Duck.  I understand that they don’t need to get anywhere near my boobs, but at least when the girls are out they draw some attention away from my cellulite. And is there anything more awkward that a vagina exposed under a work blouse?  I can’t decide if it would be better to wear a camisole, so that I can feel like I’m in my underwear, or just embrace the awkwardness and wear a blazer above the paper drape.  At least my doctor doesn't make me insert the wand myself.

Did someone say no pants party?

My doctor is a man of few words.  After the ultrasound was over, he spent at least five minutes staring at the screenshots and taking measurements.  During this time, Henry and I were growing increasingly concerned.  What did he see?  What was he doing?  Finally, he looked at us, took a breath, and said, “Looks good.”

He did confirm that he couldn’t see the hydro on the ultrasound.  Woo!

We made a bunch of decisions about the details of the transfer.  We decided that we’ll be putting two embryos in if it’s a three day transfer, and one if it’s a five day.  Making the decision to possibly only transfer one felt like the decision to skip dessert: you know that it’s right, but you still aren’t exactly happy about it. Yes, I am one of those people fertility centers hate that would love twins. Are you happy, Shady Grove?  You've talked me out of it.

Speaking of dessert, someone in the clinic brought in some leftover Halloween candy, and it’s on the counter where we pay before we leave.  It always makes Henry and me giggle to make these big decisions about intracytoplasmic sperm injection and elective single embryo transfer and cryopreservation, and then have a lollipop.  Every clinic should do this, because it’s impossible to feel sad about your visit when your tongue is blue.

Our next stop is the one Henry is looking forward to the most: injection class!  Honestly, seeing his face when he gives me shots is almost worth having to get the shots in the first place.