Well, I got a phone call yesterday from a quasi-English-speaking nurse at the fertility hospital telling me to show up at noon today for embryo transfer. After a little victory dance (at least one must have been alive!) I gave myself a stern talking-to about not getting hopes up, etc. With only two eggs, I really couldn't expect much.
Last time I showed up for embryo transfer, I was treated to the vision of four picture-perfect embryos on the big screen next to the transfer station. They were round, multi-celled, and practically brimming with health. They looked like future supermodels, Nobel prizewinners, and Olympic athletes. Well, OK, maybe they actually looked like little blobs of cells, but they looked like really nice blobs.
This time, there were two (TWO!) kind of funky-looking spots on the screen. They were several-celled, but had a decidedly sinister air about them. They didn't look like the perfect models of "gerber baby" embryos. More like "kids, don't try this at home". Nonetheless, I was so happy to see them still alive, that I didn't much care. The transfer was easy enough. The hospital made me stay there on bed rest for 2.5 hours after, which is pretty boring, but again, they made it up to me with a lovely foot massage. Then I was told to go chat with my doctor for a minute.
The doctor said that she had been expecting to get 7-9 eggs, and had been pretty confident that she'd get at least five, so getting only two was surprising. She said that the follicles were there, but empty, and had no explanation for how or why this happened. She also said that one of the embryos was graded "a little lower than average, just OK", and the other was "not as good". Still, she emphasized that anything can happen, and that I still have a reasonable chance of a good outcome.
So here I am, in the two-week-wait after all. Dear embryos, please stick. I don't care what those silly embryologists have to say about you. You're not below average, you're just misunderstood. So stick around, will you? Mommy loves you.