Five

Our "big day" was a big mess.  Such a contrast to our last experience, which was at the same facility with the same doctor.  But this time was different.  No one seemed to be listening to me as I was passed from nurse to nurse. There was a rush to get me to the O.R. because they had a very busy schedule.  The "plan" was to make sure there was sperm before I underwent the egg aspiration.  And, as I was taken in and put on the table, I was told they wouldn't be doing this if they didn't have sperm.  I knew better...but I let it go.

When I woke up out of my anesthesia stupor, I was greeted by my doctor, who informed me there was no sperm found in Dave's sample and he asked me if I wanted to have my eggs frozen.  I asked him about the testicular aspiration, which we had planned on doing in the event that there was no sperm in the sample that morning.  He looked at me like a deer caught in the headlights and said, "I'm not very optimistic about doing that."  "Well, I think we should at least try," I said, emphatically.  And then, he reluctantly agreed, but pawned it off on another doctor - whom we didn't know anything about.

So, this other doctor performed Dave's procedure and no "motile" sperm were found.  Only a few that didn't move, that were assumed to be dead, and therefore, not worth using.  One of the nurses was relaying this information to me from the embryologist.  I told her I wanted him to try, even if it meant using the non-motile sperm.  We went back and forth for a while, no one seemed to want to inject my ten precious eggs with non-motile sperm.  My doctor was called (he'd left the building).  He said that if I wanted to inject all the eggs, to go ahead and do it.   And so, at my request, they did.   The nurse said that I would get a call the next day to let me know what the fertilization results were. 

We left for home, very, very sore and very discouraged.  Dave kept reminding me that if God wants this to happen, then it will, despite the odds.  I was too ticked off to be comforted, though.  I got home and reluctantly had Dave give me my progesterone shot, wondering to myself what the point of it was.

I woke up this morning an emotional wreck.  As the morning progressed, I kept imagining the phone call from the doctor's office.  I contemplated giving them a piece of my mind.  I thought about writing Dr. Shamma a letter.  I thought about all sorts of things.  And then, I got the call...five of the ten eggs fertilized!  I couldn't believe it, and I don't think the nurse on the other end of the line could either.  She had goosebumps, she told me.

And now we wait.  Five more days and we'll go back to Rochester and I'll have the embryo transfer performed.  And then two weeks after that, I'll get my pregnancy results. 

I'm praying for these five precious little lives, that they'll continue to grow and develop normally. (The last time we did this we had 8 eggs fertilize and only one became a viable embryo).  Praying, praying, praying...