We'll start at the beginning, when I spent about 3 hours preparing plans for a substitute at work today. Then, we were granted a snow day. What a relief! I always think about work when I'm not there, so this was a load off of my mind. I could truly focus on our transfer. G had the day off, and his phone wasn't beeping at all. (Good sign).
We were due to be there at 11am, and b/c we were unsure of the road conditions after the snow, we left at 9:30 to be safe. Didn't want our thawing embryos to wait! As it turns out, we arrived in the city an hour early anyways. So, we killed some time in a nearby Best Buy. We purchased water. Ha! I was then on a mission to "moderately fill" my bladder before my transfer. (I had already downed about 16 oz. and 1/2 a gatorade).
We checked in at the receptionist counter just before 11am. Rachael Ray was on their tv and the waiting room was full. I drank. Then on came Dr. Phil. I drank some more. Dr. Phil show was almost over, and it was now almost 12 pm - the time our transfer was due to start. My bladder was so full that I could not even sit up straight.
What's a girl to do?
I did what any other girl would have to do. I snuck to the bathroom.
I then downed a whole new bottle of water in hopes that I could fill my bladder again before they called my name.
Big mistake. Flash forward to 12:40, when they finally called my name. By this time my body had processed that water, and it was all sitting in my now full-again bladder. No lie. I toughed it out. I didn't go. I put my booties over my socks, and did the pee-pee dance all the way into the room. I assumed the position and waited. I signed paperwork, checked ID, tried my best to carry on conversations. What's that? You want an intern to watch? Sure, whatever, just PLEASE hurry. I laid back and was feeling okay.
Let me explain the scenario. There is now a woman in charge of the transfer positioned at my toes armed with a speculum and catheter. Behind her is the intern. Or whatever they call future Dr.'s. Beside me is G, of course, and the ultrasound screen so we can watch. Then there's the woman on the right of me. She's in charge of using the ultrasound wand to press down on my abdomen. I hate this woman.
I was having flashes of terror where she was pushing down, and the other woman was trying to get in position, and I just peed all over them.
Then they went into action, pushing and putting things into place. They have to push down on my lower abdomen in order to see where the catheter is going. My bladder was SO full that it was creating a sharp curve up to my cervix, and they had to try like 10 times getting the catheter in place. They called in the embryos. Then they sent them away b/c they couldn't get in position. All I wanted to do was get them to hurry the heck up. I have to go, people!
I wanted so much to be so relaxed during this time. I was so tense. It was so uncomfortable. Then they say the magic words. "Do you want us to empty your bladder a bit?"
WHAT? You can do that in here? Because there was no way I was going to be able to stop it on my own in the restroom. So, I said, in desperation... "Um, okay?!"
It was over in a jiffy. They emptied a bit of my bladder - just enough to make me comfortable. In front of 4 people. In the middle they kept asking how I was feeling. At some point I said "Much better, but this is kind of gross." Seriously, you're making THAT face right now, aren't you? Me, too.
Then, suddenly, everything worked. The catheter went right in, the lady pressing on my abdomen was now my friend, and I let my death grip on G's neck relax a bit. They called the embryos back in, (which they oddly have to announce every time like an order at a deli - "Two in 23!" "Check, two coming in!").
Then, it was over. They removed all tools necessary to make magic happen. It was just me and G and a timer for 5 minutes before I could get up.
Here they are... the wonderful little things...
These are some good-looking spit bubbles - don't you think??
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