One Great Story

Their are a lot of cliches out there about life and I buy into quite a few of them.  One of my personal favorites: "Life is not measured by the number of breaths you take but by the moments that take your breath away."  You see, when it comes down to it, all I want out of life is a great story.  I want to be able to tell my grandchildren that their granny was a bad ass.  That she took advantage of every opportunity.  That sometimes things didn't quite work out but that I picked myself up, brushed myself off and moved ahead.  Whether they are tear jerking or laugh inducing, I am proud to have stories.  And this story, The McGuire Journals, is a huge one. . .

This past Saturday was the moment we've all been waiting for.  The culmination of shots and check ups, protein, salt and gallons of Powerade, everything we've put ourselves through for this chance.  Needless to say, we were giddy school girls that morning.  We had found out throughout the week that they had retrieved 27 eggs during the retrieval on Monday, 25 of which were viable.  Fifteen of those had been successfully fertilized.  That Saturday morning, our doctor gave me a quick call to let us know that 11 had reached the zygote phase which, as he put it, was "phenomenal."  The plan, 2 to be put in, 9 to go into the freezer.  We couldn't believe it.  So of course we ran out of the house like crazy women with tunnel vision to drive to La Jolla.  Our excitement and anticipation was barely contain as we walked in the office.  Our lovely neighbor and Derby great Dr. Turmoyal made her signature mouthwatering cake balls for the special occasion (Hanukkah style of course) which we practically threw at the staff.

A quick side note.  We were given instructions the day prior that I could eat what I wanted to in the morning but needed to wear loose, comfy clothes, no perfume and I had to drink 16 oz of water on the way up.  I was concerned that what I thought was the embryo transfer was in fact going to be a sorority hazing so I checked with the nurse the day before as to what was up with the perfume and water.  The water, for those of you like me who hasn't been pregnant before, is for the ultrasound.  Turns out the perfume was in fact no smells AT ALL including lotion and body wash because the embryos are extremely sensitive to it.  Who knew!

Anywho, they called us both back to the pre-op area and started going over the procedures for after the procedure and the drug regimen.  The meds are overwhelming now that they gave us a calendar printout to keep us on track.  One injection every day.  Two on Mondays and Thursdays.  Two patches that change every other day and a pill at night.  Plus the standard pre natal vitamin and baby aspirin.  They gave me my gown, hair net, and super sexy socks to change into while also giving Karen a gown, hair net, booties and a mask so she could be in the operating room too.  I cannot tell you how amazing that was.  I was hoping that that would be the case but I know that Karen was prepared to wait in the waiting room.  But this is our journey and much of what the entire staff has done for us is because of the love and commitment they see between us.  I can't imagine they would have had it any other way.

We went into the OR and hung out for awhile.  Once they came in, Dr. Smotrich gave us a picture of the embryos that were going in and the embryologist gave us the top to their petri dish.  The lights were dimmed (they are sensitive to that too) and, as Karen clutched my hand tight, we got started.  She got to see the ultrasound screen during the entire procedure and in the end, there was a tiny speck of light at the top of my uterus that contained both of them. (We have a picture of that too!)

Afterwards, they literally tipped the table up so my legs were above my head and Karen and I had half an hour to talk and cry and reflect on it all.  It was an unbelievable moment that we thought couldn't be topped.  But then our doc walked back in and asked if he could say a prayer.  We're not religious people but we respect his deep faith and said of course.  He held both of our hands over my uterus and said the prayer in Hebrew.  Neither of us could keep the tears from our eyes. . .

We headed home to three days of bed rest.  Literally off my feet except to pee and no using my abs.  It was frustrating at times but luckily we had amazing visitors who kept us company and full of food. Plus a full day of Sunday football with noise makers care of my wife.

Tuesday we returned for a quick blood test.  Turns out my progesterone was a bit low (they want it at 30 and mine was at 24.6) so they upped my nightly drugs to two but that's it.  Not enough concern to do another follow up.

Now its a waiting game.  Trying to be in the moment and be realistic about our chances that they latch on but still take care of myself as a high risk pregnancy like I'm supposed to.  Trying not to over analyze every little thing.  Trying to take deep breaths.

So our next appointment is January 3rd.  And that appointment could quite literally change everything . . . and start an even crazier journey. . .