Today is one-week post egg retrieval
It has been nothing short of massive waves of emotion, pain, and tears.
The 20 eggs that were retrieved, quickly dropped to 12 fertilized, which dropped to 8 matured, which declined to 2 that actually made it to day #6.
20 to 2
We will now wait for the genetic testing to hopefully rule out any chromosomal abnormalities, but I can’t help but wonder if we will be left with no viable eggs that we will be able to transfer.
As I share our story and the path we are on, I have received soo much love and support, it has been incredible. I’ve heard stories of success, hope, sadness, and strength and my heart is so full to know that I have given some women and men the courage to open up about the struggles of infertility.
I keep hearing the words “You’re so strong” or “You’re so brave”, and as I sit here today, emotional, bloated, bruised, and still feeling the effects of the procedure, I don’t feel very strong. I don’t feel brave at all because I’m doing these things because we don’t actually have a choice, and that seems different to me.
After the retrieval, I had this sense of relief… like we had overcome a huge milestone and we were on our way. That sense of relief was quickly crushed with the egg quality rapidly declining and leaving me with the fear of having to go through another stimulation phase and retrieval.
For as much research and knowledge I had gained prior to our IVF cycle starting, I honestly felt a little blindsided by how tough the recovery was from the retrieval. 90% of the blogs, articles, videos, and conversations around egg retrieval recovery literally say “little to no pain with mild cramping.” When we got home, I was extremely sore and cramped up, but I thought that a short nap would be able to get me back on my feet. As the day progressed, so did my pain, bloating, and nausea. I finally looked at Justin and said “There’s no way I should be in this much pain.” So, we called our nurse, and she explained that patients with 20 or more eggs retrieved typically have extremely high levels of estrogen before the procedure (which mine was) and that it was normal for me to be in quite a bit of pain. She sent in a prescription for a Tylenol and codeine mix to help reduce pain without adding more water retention. This at least helped me sleep, but I still wasn’t able to walk more than just shuffling my feet without being in extreme pain.
This pain was unlike anything I have ever experienced. As an athlete, I am very familiar with pain… I would consider myself to have a relatively high pain tolerance. I felt so defeated and weak. I hated that this procedure had quite literally knocked me on my ass. For those of you that know how seriously I take my daily steps, just to give you an idea of how miserable I was, I didn’t exceed 500 steps for three consecutive days after the retrieval. LIKE, WHAT?! That was basically shuffling to the bathroom and back to bed.
There is also a very high chance of OHSS (ovarian hyper-stimulation syndrome) post egg retrieval for most women, so they suggest very mild activity, lots of fluids and electrolytes, a low sugar diet, low carbohydrate diet, and at least two protein shakes a day to help your body move fluids and not retain more water. They have you monitor your weight pretty closely and make sure that your weight doesn’t fluctuate more than 5 pounds in a day because that would indicate rapid fluid retention in your ovaries and reduce the blood supply to them.
These protocols were a little tough for me to stick to because my appetite was completely shot. I had so much bloating and pain that I had no interest in food or any liquids. I actually experienced this throughout the stimulation shots as well and likely didn’t exceed 800 calories a day throughout the 12 days of stimulation. Food was just extremely difficult, and if I pushed it and tried to eat, I’d pay for it with extreme discomfort. I told Justin that I feel like the word “bloating” has an entirely new meaning to it and that I had no right to use it before when referring to a little abdominal distension.
Another area I felt blindsided by was the process of the eggs after the retrieval. It was soul-crushing the days following the retrieval with each phone call from the clinic being told that our eggs were rapidly declining. I feel angry at myself for having different expectations about what my eggs would be able to do. I just assumed that I freaking crushed the stim phase because we got SO MANY. Immediately (after breaking down and ugly crying for a solid 20) I started researching what I did wrong through the stimulation phase, what factors go into egg quality, and how I could fix this. Clearly, there’s nothing I can do now to fix this or change this outcome, but thanks to emotions and hormones for making me believe otherwise for a split second.
The one thing I have learned through this process that you won’t read online or hear from your doctors is this; you simply never know how things will work. There are no rules, no promises, and no guarantees. Everything can seemingly be going great until it’s not. You just don’t know. There are so many things that you can’t plan for or prepare yourself for emotionally or physically. Infertility is a ruthless bitch and doesn’t discriminate.
I don’t know my body or what’s happening with ME right now. My hormones are jacked, my body is in recovery, and my mind (and tear ducts) are trying to just keep up. A photo of Diesel popped up onto my memories yesterday and completely caught me off guard and I found myself sobbing just wanting so incredibly bad to wrap my arms around his big furry neck and feel the comfort he always brought to me. I felt like he could fix it all if I could just hug him. It literally hurt my heart to not be able to.
I have committed to sharing this journey with you guys which means I will show up and share the ugly shit, too. A friend of mine messaged me yesterday and asked “How are you holding up?” As much as I wanted to say “Great, coming around!”, without hesitation I just said “You knowwww, I have absolutely nothing positive to say about this right now.” and that’s the truth. I do feel blessed to have science and a team of doctors behind us trying to help us start a family, but dammit I’m running low on positivity.
If you know someone that is experiencing infertility, don’t be offended or saddened if they choose not to be an open book about the process. Don’t take it personally if they aren’t able to show up and pretend everything is okay. This shit consumes you and takes over your mind and body. Let them know you’re there and offer support when it’s needed, and do your best to be patient with us. We know you love us and know you’d do anything to help.
