I had no idea what to expect for egg collection, except that everyone I had spoken to said that it was like going for the best sleep of your life and waking up just a bit sore. How very wrong they were!
You’re not allowed any food or drink from midnight the night before egg collection, and I woke up that Wednesday morning with such a dry mouth – I was just so nervous! We took a taxi to the hospital, as I’m not allowed to drive for the following 48 hours after surgery, and J doesn’t drive. Upon arrival, we were taken to the recovery ward so that I could change into my gorgeous gown and hair net. You’re also not allowed any perfumes, make up, deodorant when you go in – J actually overheard someone say she’d had a shower that morning and forgot, so they made her go and wash off all the soap she’d used right there and then!
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| Feeling extremely sorry for myself - and still crying! |
This was another awful part – it's a shared recovery ward so there’s only a thin paper curtain separating you from the woman next door, and of course you hear everything that’s going on with their treatment, too. I was floored when I heard a woman get wheeled back after her retrieval, to be told “we got three eggs,” and her response was “oh well that’s better than last time!” You just assume you’re going to come out with like 20 eggs and all will be okay. This is not the case, as while your scans may have gone well and the follicles all look good, the eggs they retrieve may not be mature enough, or of good quality. They just don’t know until they get in there.
I had a locum doctor perform my surgery, which was okay but she was quite stern and didn’t make me feel at ease at all. They do the usual pre-procedure checks: insert a canula, administer antibiotics, and hook you up to the sticky heart-rate pads. But one of my favourite nurses, Rebecca, was also there, so she helped to reassure me. And then before I knew it, I was kissing J goodbye and being taken into theatre.
If you’ve never had surgery down there before, or given birth or anything, then this part was absolutely horrific. Your legs are strapped firmly into stirrups, you’re told to point your hoohoo upwards, and then a great big light is shone up there. “Aaaaand relax, Mrs B. And relax... Just relax! Okay, you really have to relax because we can’t get in there.” Like, HOW are you supposed to just relax when five strangers are all staring at your vagina, ready and waiting with a speculum?! *Shudders* I focussed on the air conditioning vent right above me as they put a mask over my face. All of a sudden, the vent was moving like it was on a conveyer belt! And then I was out.
All too soon, I came around mid-surgery. I was crying so hard, trying my best to kick my way out of the stirrups – all while a doctor still had her head between my legs and a very big needle in me. She was shouting at me to stop moving, but it was a pain like I’d never felt, and I was sure this was not supposed to be happening! I vaguely recall Rebecca holding my hand, telling me to calm down and smoothing my hair back. She said something to another nurse, and just like that I went out again – this time properly!
I was told the surgery should only last about 20 minutes, and I was gone for over an hour. J was waiting for me when I came to, but I was still crying through the fog and I was being monitored closely for any bleeding.
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| Finally managing a smile post-collection! |
What seemed like an age later, I finally felt well enough to tell J to take our picture. I had documented everything else so far, I couldn’t leave this bit out! A nurse came in with a cup of tea and some biscuits, and it was like heaven in a mug!! They explained that they’d collected 10 eggs, which I was really pleased with. Whilst I was under, J had to go and do his part, and they said that his morphology rate had actually increased to about 8% from 2-3%. They advised that since this was such a good improvement (and to bear in mind that some men’s sperm will come back worse than their initial analysis all those many moons ago) they would be doing traditional IVF for us, rather than ICSI like we’d hoped. I was a bit deflated at this, because in mind if it’s “that good of an improvement” then why wasn’t I pregnant naturally?! But we had to trust in the doctors and their opinion. Frankly, I was just too tired to put up a fight, and accepted their advice.
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| The best post-surgery cure I've ever had- tea and a couple of Digestives! |
After waiting for me to go for a wee, they then released me and sent me on my way. J’s mum met us in the hospital café to take us home, and she looked like she could cry when she saw the state I was in! We went home, and both of us fell asleep on the sofa – physically and emotionally drained!
We were now at the stage where we just wait and see what happens. That afternoon whilst I was resting at home, they took J’s sperm and my 10 eggs, and put them in a petri dish together – letting nature take over. They then monitor them each day for the next few days, and call us every morning with an update. This, I believe, is harder than the dreaded Two Week Wait!
KEB x
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