Denver was beautiful and I expected nothing less. I love Colorado - the mountains, the clean, crisp air, the lack of smog and pollution that covers NJ, a state I've grown to hate living in (alas, a very well paying job in a major national corporation and a small, but valuable, network of friends, it'll be years before I can leave).
Yesterday morning I got to my appointment at CCRM. Okay, the place is beautiful, state-of-the-art with a luxurious atmosphere. It's high-end, which goes with the price tag, I guess. I was shuttled from one appointment to the next. The first was with my doctor - extremely nice, thoughtful and intelligent man. Then came the ultrasound to measure blood flow to the uterus and to determine if I'd need some acupuncture in advance of the donor egg cycle to improve things. Nope, don't need it - blood flow to my uterus is fine. Good.
Then I had the nursing consult with my nurse who is just lovely - wish I could have her eggs! Then came the fiber optic hysteroscopy. I was dreading this and I'll tell you why. Any time I'm "advised" to take 800 mg. of ibuprofin before a procedure, that's bad fucking news in my book! So I was scared. The nurse insisted it wasn't bad at all. Yeah, okay, whatever - what's she going to say at that moment, "don't worry, this is a sound-proof room and we'll hand you a leather strap to bite on?"
When I was prescribed an HSG, I did some online homework and read a couple of reports on fertility boards of women who claimed their HSG wasn't bad and didn't know what all the fuss was about. Though I'm sure they weren't lying about their personal experiences, I opted to believe the other 98% of women who said it was unbearably painful. One comment on an infertility board carved itself into my brain last year and it went something like this: "That was the most painful thing I've ever experienced in my life. I can't believe they're allowed by law to do that without anesthesia."
I have never recovered from that report of an HSG and I will likely remember it for the rest of my life. And thanks to the removal of my fallopian tubes, I will never have to have one!
Okay, so back to the fiber optic hysteroscopy. First there was a mock transfer after which my doctor said "oh, this is going to be a very easy transfer." I guess I'm "easy." Then came the hysteroscope and the gas that's pumped into your uterus to expand it and the doctor looks through a lens to see what's going on in the uterus. What I felt was the tiniest bit of discomfort - and I mean TINY! It was a walk in the park - a hair more uncomfortable than a pap smear. THANK GOD! It was such a breeze that I felt silly for fearing it for the past month.
And don't think it escapes me that I'm actively pursuing pregnancy. I can imagine my water breaking and me asking the nurses, Hey, is this delivery going to hurt? Ridiculous! I have to get over this!
Well, then I was off to the lab for the whole enchilada of sexually transmitted disease testing, consent form review, finance (yeah, the money baby!) where I plunked down my Visa for the $2,500 deposit to get on "the waiting list" for a donor egg, and I was done at 3 PM. I hopped into my SUV rental and high-tailed it back to Denver International for my flight back to NJ. I'm beat!
Next and final steps: Mock cycle.
My next CD1 (ETA of 10/28), I start on Vivelle (estrogen patches) and go to the local RE for an ultrasound at the indicated date to check my lining.
And that's it baby, from then on I am officially on WAIT STATUS.
I was told to expect 6-9 months but then she said "now that I told you that, I will tell you that the less criteria you have in terms of a match, the sooner the match will happen.
Now, I'd already begun this process saying that my criteria is SLIM.
- A proven donor
- Anything except brown eyes
- And DOES NOT need to look like me whatsoever.
I love this quick matching story at CCRM. I dream about it! And she's got two of the most BEAUTIFUL, yummiest little munchkins I've ever seen. How absolutely wonderful!
Well, hang on, twins for her is a spectacular blessing - for me (a single parent), it wouldn't be wonderful at all. Rather, terrifying, thought-provoking, devastating - yes. If I had a wonderful prince charming for a husband, I would welcome two (two for the price of one - woo hoo!) but I know my limitations and one is all I can handle right now.
Which brings me to another subject that I'll post about separately.