I arrived at the clinic at 8am. After 15 minutes or so me and a shy looking Bulgarian woman were shown into the back room.
We were asked to undress (without any privacy of course... it IS Europe after all) and put on the night gown or robe we brought to wear. I brought a thick fuzzy robe because I don’t own a single night gown.
We were instructed (in Bulgarian) to lay down on the two beds in that room which were about arms length apart. They started my IV first, I have great veins and it took very little time to get me set up. I was also treated to a shot in the ass, I have no idea what it was or what it was for.
The poor girl next to me obviously hasn’t been blessed with the bulging veins I have and they went from one arm to the other on her for about 20 minutes before getting her all hooked up.
Then we waited, smiling sheepishly at one another. I asked her (in my halting Bulgarian) if she spoke English, she nodded her head yes (which in Bulgarian means NO). We smiled some more and I tried not to look nervous.
When they beckoned me into the room next door to straddle the stirrup I started wondering where Poke was. When Dr. Voyeur showed up I was quite happy, finally someone who speaks English.
"Is Poke here yet?" I asked, with as much exposed hooch dignity I could muster. He had promised to be here on time even though he had needed to go into the office first this morning.
I was then reassured that Poke had made it and was already at work on his contribution of the day. "Good boy" I thought to myself, then the insertion of a huge unlubricated speculum chased all thoughts from my head for a minute.
I’m not sure what they put into the IV except water, because I never felt any effects of it that I know of. They put one of those little plastic finger pulse thingies and a blood pressure cuff on while the doctor went about his stretching of my unstretchables.
OWIE! Yup.. that was a shot of local anaesthesia up the cooter, not pleasant. Dr. Voyeur assures me that quite often the shot is more painful than the actual retrieval, I hope to god it is.
Finally Poke shows up in the room dressed in blue paper and is quickly banished to a far corner, a far corner I might add with a good view of all of the business going on.
Things start, I’m watching the ultrasound screen and see them locate my right ovary, the one that has two mature follicles and the little left behind one. I feel the foot long needle puncture my womanlies but it’s not so bad I tell myself, a bit of a prick, easy to ignore while I am so fascinated by watching it suck each follicle into invisibility.
Then there is the left ovary. Let me update you on my naughty little left ovary.
It’s a rebel, or maybe it’s actually a rubber ball masquerading as a rebel ovary, I’m not sure.
I only know that it is notorious for hiding. Three years ago it hid well enough during a yearly exam that it was suggested that the left ovary might be small and inactive.
Since becoming acquainted with the Dildo Cam I have learned different, it produces follicles when asked it’s just... um.. bouncy. Maybe it is a free range ovary.
At my last appointment which was Wed. the doctor had been unable to get a look at it at all with the dildo cam, but because it had been seen just the day before he wasn’t’ worried.
And of course for retrieval today the naughty left ovary was still playing hard to get. After a couple of minutes and much pushing and prodding they located the left and it’s one fat follicle and you would think that would be that. But Oh know! Each time they tried to tap into that big wet bubble my ovary would bounce happily off of the tip of the very sharp very long needle.
Do I even need to tell you how incredibly painful this was?
I had to take the word of the doctor and of Poke who was watching with fascination from the corner at this point because I could no longer lay back and watch this process on the screen. My body was having a bit of a reaction to unmerited torture. I had begun to shake uncontrollably, a hard palsy type shake. I was doing my best to keep my vocalizing to low moans and a few grunted curse words but I was crying as well.
It has been a very long time since I’ve cried from physical pain, I had forgotten how different that cry feels from the emotional ones that have become a regular part of my life.
I wasn’t counting, but I’ll be a Gerbils Aunt if they didn’t have to stab me at least 10 times to finally get that one lonely follicle from my left ovary. The reason they were finally able to get the bouncy ovary had been because Dr. Voyeur had put the needle in the hands of one of his nurses and come around beside me, he had then laid his forearm along my left abdomen and pushed down, hard. I guess he knows a bit about trapping ovaries. He then explained to me that my left ovary seemed to have a particularly thick outer coating and was very mobile. No shit.
I was never so glad in my life as when they decided they were finished, I was also glad I hadn’t been allowed to eat for 24 hours or I’m sure I would have vomited all over myself.
They brought me back to my bed and put an ice pack on my stomach to help slow any bleeding and to reduce swelling. The poor girl on the next bed was looking at me in horror and fear. I tried to explain that one side was no problem, the other side, ouch!. I think she got the drift.
They began to prepare for her and after they had her in the stirrups I realized why she had looked so worried when I came back, they weren’t even closing the door between the rooms all of the way. She had been able to hear everything and see almost everything. Poor girl, I’m glad I went first.
The Bulgarian woman did a lot of gasping and sobbing during her retrieval and I had some compassion for her at this point. She later told me that they got 7 eggs, I told her I had three. I didn’t mention that my three took longer then her 7 to retrieve though.
For the next two hours I bled a lot and the doctor or a nurse came often to check to see if the bleeding had slowed any. The girl next to me didn’t seem to leak a drop. I’m always the lucky one.
After three hours my husband (who had dashed back to work for a while) showed up and they decided that since my bleeding was down to a minimum I could go home. Poke had brought KFC with him, I love that man.... and well.. that chicken too.
I was home by 1:30 and walking up the two flights of stairs to my bedroom kinda sucked, but then me and my kitty laid down and slept until 4pm. I feel pretty decent now but very sore.
I’m glad we got at least the three eggs the doc had predicted, I can only wait now to see if they fertilize and thrive. I am hoping for at least two good ones for transfer. I have a great fear of triplets and the unavoidable complications that they have to live with.
I will call the doc tomorrow at noon to see how my eggies are doing, I’ll let you know as soon as I can.
Transfer should be Sunday.
