On December 8th at 9:45am, It was time! We had to be at the doctor’s office by 9:15am. I was ready! I actually slept really well the night before (again, I was every kind of exhausted at this point). Craig couldn’t come in to the room with me (stupid Covid) so I was there by myself. As I was getting ready in my area, the curtain next to me had a patient that just got out of the surgery. The nurse came and in told her basically her retrieval was unsuccessful and they were only able to retrieve 5 eggs. My heart broke for her as I listened to her cry. I said a prayer for her. This journey is hard, mentally, emotionally, spiritually. I know her partner was not there with her due to Covid so she was left there by herself to cry. I wanted to so badly get up and give her a hug and cry with her.
I needed to regroup because my nurse came in ready to move me to the operating room. I got in there, and she immediately drew my IV. She asked If I was OK with needles and I laughed. I have been poked so many times these past couples of months, an IV was child’s play. She started to put some “relaxing medicine” in me. It burned when it went in, but it definitely put me in a good spot. Half way through, as I was looking up at the ceiling. I thought, this medicine isn’t working.
I somehow was back in the recovery room and the nurse said she was ready to take out my IV. I asked when the surgery would start. She laughed and said it was over. No shit! They tell you right away how many eggs they retrieved, and I had 12! A great start! From there, they will contact me tomorrow and let me know how many made it past fertilization. So now we just wait and recover.
We stopped at McDonald’s on the way home, naturally. I posted up on the couch, heating pad, vicodin, and I was set! Craig took really good care of me. He wouldn’t let me move (which was great because I really couldn’t). Chloe knew something was wrong and laid on me for 2 days straight, wouldn’t leave my side. I was content.
