Egg Retrieval and Growing Vibes

THURSDAY was the big day.  We got up at 5am, and got to Akron around 7:30.  Instead of collecting a sample at home, Ryan preferred to do it there just in case we got stuck in traffic or something unexpected.  That's the last thing we needed was to suck all these eggs out of me and then have a bunch of dead sperm on our hands.  So, there I was, the only person in the waiting room, waiting for my husband to make his deposit.  It was the calm before the storm... almost deafening silence in there. 
Ryan came back triumphant and the nurse almost immediately took me back to get me gowned up.  Of course, she had to stick me twice and dig like crazy to get my IV started (grrrrr).  They let Ryan come back for a few minutes to sit with me because my doctor wasn't there yet (surprise, surprise).  I had gotten up extra early to do my hair and makeup because I wanted to take some pictures, but I ended up being to nervous to do anything but sit there and stare at the wall.  Then all of a sudden it was time to go. 
Back in the mini O.R. the nurse got me up on the table and heart monitors and such hooked up.  We had a conversation about Propofol: I wanted to know how she was going to wake me up from it so I didn't end up like Michael Jackson.  She giggled, but I was a little serious.  Then, after much waiting, the door burst open, in walks my doctor, he pats me on the cheek and says it's time to do this, and before I can say something witty, I turn my head just in time to see the propofol being pushed, and I was instantly O.U.T. 
I don't know how long it took, but I remember waking up and they were transporting me into a recliner looking chair that had wheels.  They wheeled me back in with Ryan and let me try to get my wits about me again.  I wasn't feeling any pain quite yet, but I was extremely anxious... and probably a little irritable if you asked my husband.  One of the embryologists poked her head in the door and asked how I was doing.  When I said fine, she told me that they got 12 eggs.  She said it in a manner that sounded positive, but before she could peek her head back out, I was already in tears.  I was hoping for many more than 12.  At that point, I just wanted to get the hell out of there, so I told the nurse I was feeling great and asked to get dressed... all the while still fighting back tears. 
Now mind you, when I had my first monitoring ultrasound, my doctor told me he guessed that we would get around 12 eggs.  So this should be a good thing, right?  Except for I don't like to do anything unexceptionally and my overachieving crazy ass wanted 20-25, only because I know that some people get that and that it was possible. 
Anyway, I went home, took some Vicodin, and slept on the couch for the rest of the day.  In a nut shell, I looked about 4 months pregnant, I couldn't fully pee, and it felt like someone punched me in the stomach about a thousand times.  Not so fun.  But, I found out that Vicodin really helps me sleep soundly... haha. 

FRIDAY: 1st Phone Call from Embryologist
I sat on pins and needles all morning Friday waiting for my phone to ring.  When they finally called, it wasn't as good of news as I was wanting.  Of my 12 eggs, only 8 were mature, and of those, only 7 fertilized.  So in a days worth, I went from 12 chances to 7.  The embryologist sounded a little discouraged on the low maturity rate, but was happy that 7/8 fertilized.  Then he said "Well, next time, we will have to try some different drugs to try to get a better maturity rate."  Um, I'm sorry.... There better not freaking be a next time! 
For the next 2 days as I recovered on the couch, all I could think about was my 7 little embryos in those petri dishes, and how absolutely crushed I would be if they all start dying.  I mean, obsessive.  Fully.  Like hours at a time on the internet researching the survival rates for 1 day old embryos.  Ridiculous, but true. 

SUNDAY: 2nd Phone Call from Embryologist
Again, pins and needles all morning waiting on the phone call.  When it came, I was much happier than the last.  All 7 (my husband calls them the lucky #7) were still alive and growing.  She said that a few of them have pulled ahead of the pack and look like the rockstars, but as of today, there's nothing wrong with any of them.  Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh, relief.  It's funny how attached I am to them already and they only have between 6-10 cells right now.  I mean, they are my kids.  Literally, my kids.  I try not to think too deeply about it or I get all teary eyed.  PLEASE don't die.  PLEASE just hang in there for 37 more hours so I can put you back where you belong! 

This whole thing is a crazy ride, but the last few days have been nerve wracking and painful.  It seems so close, yet so far away still.  Our embryo transfer will be Tuesday at 1:00.  We are just hoping and praying that they all make it until then.  Come on Lucky #7, mama's rollin' the dice.......