It’s much harder to drink 2 litres of water while actually working from home instead of lolling about on the sofa.
I am not keen on this waiting bit. And I really am not looking forward to the bit where I take a pregnancy test next week. Too many negative ones. Too many that were positive then negative. It’s a lot easier not knowing. And talking to Thing1. I rather enjoy that.
Progesterone is great. I had to send N to acquire the next cup-size up bra for me. On the downside, it’s going to be such a long slog getting my fitness back if this doesn’t work…. all this lolling. All this boobage to try and squash into a sports bra…
I may still have Ovarian Hyperstimulation Syndrome, but rest and water have started doing their thing. Today’s scan said my left ovary has shrunk down a bit. Still got a bit too much liquid sloshing about the place (although less than before), so I get to go for another scan on Friday. I am allowed to WFH tomorrow which will keep me occupied. I am not allowed to walk for more than five minutes at a time. I am glad I do not need to go into the office, frankly, the amount of energy it took to get in and out of Woking to the clinic had me slightly surprised.
The lovely thing about the extra scans is that I got my endometrium measured as part of the process. It is nice and thick and just what Thing1 wants at this point. I am a memory foam mattress. So, fingers crossed, even with all this upset, Thing1 is settling in cosily.
This made up for feeling rough as anything after the scan. She was ever so lovely, but boy was she Thorough.
A new, and exciting, development. My left ovary is 9cm across, and sloshing about in about 200ml of liquid. Bizarrely, I still fit into my jeans (must be the cut) but I have been put onto sofa rest and have to have another scan on Wednesday.
It seems there’s not much you can do to prevent Ovarian Hyperstimulation Syndrome. Treatment is rest and liquid. Complications involve DVT and fluid on the lungs (but hey! Don’t exercise!). At worst they’ll send me to hospital and hook me up to a drip. But it does seem that all you can do is wait it out. Apparently, it will resolve faster if I’m not pregnant. What a thought.
I haven’t slept enough. My health insurance doesn’t cover complications of IVF (but my consultant is also a consultant at the local hospital, so I am sure I can skip the private hospital if I am well enough to argue the toss…and I have savings for this sort of eventuality). I am a Bit Worried about it all. I have been signed off work, but I could wfh I reckon. Will see what the result of the next scan is. It seems disingenuous to not work when my brain is mostly functional. On the other hand, the Christmas Cards are getting done. And they didn’t ask if I could wfh. Just that I stop working and self-certify. Aye me. So complicated. Such an ethical conundrum. The thing is: other than this build up of fluid, I feel fairly symptom-free. Very little pain. Some slightly darker pee (so I have something to drink: but I’m a runner. I am obsessed with the shade of my pee anyhow and I suspect my tolerance level of pee colour is lower than most peoples’). Some bloating, but no worse than I’ve had pre-menstrually.
This is an incoherent brain dump.
Stick, Thing1, stick!
We also have one in the freezer. This is more or less as good as it could be. I have spent the afternoon being rather lazy on the sofa watching silly films, based on a study done in an Israeli clinic where they sent in a clown to entertain women after IVF and got better results.
Well. Why not giggle?
Of course, I’m not actually pregnant until a proper HCG test, and anything could happen in the next 2 weeks until that happens.
It’s been slow, ponderous, emotionally strained, anxious and sleepy.
On the plus side, no-one has phoned to say Thing1 & Thing2 have given up the ghost, so I guess we are all go for tomorrow.
This is faintly terrifying, as well as being exciting. I’m going to go knit. We need to be on the 7:46 train tomorrow, and the only time I’ve made it out of bed before 7:46 this week was Monday.
All being good, Thing1 and Thing2 are now a healthy 32 cells, cocooned in their incubator and we find out on Saturday if they’re blastocysts and going to be implanted.
Meanwhile, I am taking the progesterone, and turning into Dolly Parton. I think I need a bigger bra. I also think a bigger bra would be tempting fate. Jinxing everything.
I am stuck on Autumn Rose until my new knitting needles arrive from from Deramores, so I am making Christmas Pudding Hats for L’s twins. The cute will be unbearable. I went a bit mad and bought the beginnings of a Knit Picks Karbonz interchangeable set (random 30% off sales will do that to a girl). I now have 4 sets of interchamgeable needles. Should anyone like a set of Denise needles or some brightly coloured metal ones, free gratis, sing out. There is a limit and I think I have hit it. The older sets have served me well, but the new Karbonz are now my preferred brand. I have knit those hats before: the leaves are just as fiddly as I remember. However, I have done one already. 3 to go. Or 5 if I make a hat for T’s baby.
I still have the attention span of a gnat. And my midriff feels like it has been foam rollered today. So no running for a bit. It could be much, much worse and I am pretty lucky, all things considered.
We have two eggs which have hit the four cell stage.
Naturally, we are trying to decided whether to put them down for Eton, Harrow, or Hogwarts.
(Feeling somewhat more hopeful than yesterday. I catastrophised yesterday).