[prue~c]

I thought I would do a bit of a run-down on what is involved with a fresh IVF cycle, because unless you have done it, why would you know? It's easy for some, difficult for others, both emotionally and physically. I would probably fall somewhere in the middle. I'm a pretty pragmatic kind of girl. I get on with the job. Only once have I cried over failed IVF. My problems are more of the physical type. Some people recover quickly and have little pain, but me -I'm a bit of a handful and have had a few post-op complications resulting in hospital admission and a lot of very nice pain relief. But I'm one of the lucky ones. I stimulate really well and one of the side effects is a fair bit of discomfort, because I have an abdomen full of ripe follicles. Some women are lucky if they get one. There are so many variables, but it's a whole other blog post. This is to tell you what I have been up to for the last couple of weeks.

So the regime begins on day two of the menstrual cycle. I'm doing what they call an 'antagonist' cycle, which has just become a lot cheaper thanks to the government adding the antagonist medication - ganirelix - to the PBS. Previously they had been about $90 a shot. That's the medication that stops ovulation. Day two begins like any other. I take my 5mg of folic acid, which helps prevent neural tube defects in the hypothetical developing foetus. I take ten times the regular dose, because I have a gene mutation than can cause deficiency of Methylenetetrahydrofolate reductase - I prefer the acronym MTHFR - which is thought to be a cause of recurrent miscarriage. I take the folate then three capsules of CoEnzyme CQ10, a cap of omega 3 fish oil, a general conception multi-vitamin, all washed down with a Berocca - not because I'm hungover, but it gets the vitamin B in and I really find it gives me a good boost.

Then in the evening, it's a shot of Follicle Stimulating Hormone (FSH) to the stomach. The regime continues for three days then I add a tablet of ethinyl estradiol to the mix in an attempt to coax my rather pathetic endometrium - that's the bit the embryo buries itself into and mine is borderline thin - to grow more than 8mm. The next day is the first of many blood tests to check my hormone levels. Not much is happening, so my FSH dose is doubled and the regime continues for another two days. Another blood test and yay, estrogen levels are high enough to commence injection number two - the antagonist that prevents ovulation. The whole idea is to get the ovaries to produce lots of follicles - which are meant to contain the eggs - at the same time preventing the body's natural urge to trigger ovulation.

Regime continues for another two days, then another blood test - something thing I don't do too well; the poor nurses have a shocker of a time finding my veins and more often than not I end up having it taken from a painful spot on the top of my right hand - and then it's time for an ultrasound.

(Now if you know me in real life, you might want to tune out now - yes Mum, that goes for you - because I am going to talk about vaginas)

You do get used to them, really, but they are such an invasive procedure. It's not the happy "ooh that's cold" tummy-style ultrasound that pregnant women get. This is something that is known across the IVF world as dildo-cam, DC for short. Because it's like a dildo, with a camera on top. Five times in the last two weeks I have lain on a skinny, uncomfortable bed in a freezing office in Bondi, and had my holiest of holies invaded by a long, cold, unforgiving sceptre. They call it a transducer - I call it cruel. But it's great we have the technology, right? DC gets dressed for action with a condom rolled over and held with a rubber band at the base, and a squirt of that ice-cold blue gel before, ahem, entering.

Unless the nurse is too vigorous - and none of my fave girls are - the procedure isn't painful, more uncomfortable, because it goes in a really. long. way. My last ultrasound on Wednesday showed I had around 30 follicles between 10 and 20mm. 20mm is the sweet spot and so that night, while at a charity party filled with self-congratulatory media types, I injected Ovidrel which triggers the follicles to release the egg. But don't get too excited for me, dear reader, because 30 follicles doesn't promise 30 eggs. I'm hoping for ten good ones, from which I would like two embryos at the end - one to transfer, one to freeze.

Today I go in for the egg retrieval. My stomach is distended like I'm five months gone, and I waddle. Oh the cruelty! Any passing observer would think I was having a particularly uncomfortable pregnancy. The regime has reduced to pills-only over the past two days, but from this evening, I get to crank up the fun again, this time with a lovely little (you all get sarcasm, right?) gift from science called the progesterone pessary. It says a lot that I would rather inject myself every day than endure the PP. Imagine ladies, if you will, a small conical candle, 2cm high by 1cm across. Twice a day, you stick the candle up your fanoir and let it melt slowly, stickily out. Chafe? Why yes, I do!

Luckily I get to fulfil that dream of injecting every day, because from this evening, I also need to shoot up Clexane - a blood thinner than I need because of my high percentage of Natural Killer cells - no explanation needed, really - which is an auto-immune issue that can affect embryo implantation. Or something like that. I'm only newly diagnosed so I need to read up on it all.

So if things go to plan, in five days I will be back in the clinic to have my embryo - which has been prepped using a technique called "assisted hatching" to help thin out the wall of the embryo and help it attach to the endometrium - transferred, and in ten days I'll either be pregnant, or not. Or I could be a bit pregnant. That happens too.

Oh and PS is it weird that I'm looking forward to the general anaesthetic? I love that two seconds of druggie goodness before you go under. Of course the recovery is a shocker, but those two seconds are pure bliss.

This post has been edited by EBeditor: 20/08/2010, 08:44 AM

[Oma Desala]

Hi Prue,

Thank you for sharing with us your journey so far. You are incredibly brave and strong person and I admire you for that very reason. I could not imagine going through what you have done time and time again.

I really do hope you have positive news in the coming weeks.

All the best

JM

[Dînerdescons]

Thanks for your insight, honesty and humour Prue. And above all, thank you thank you for doing such a great service to the EB community in introducing them to the term 'fanoir'!

[belindarama]

Wow, thanks for sharing that with such grace and openess. I knew it was not easy but only had a fuzzy idea what IVF involved.

I have never wanted to ask any of my friends what they had to go through but did want to know.

You have obviously remained strong and positive in trying circumstances and I admire that.

Good luck this time, I hope you get your precious baby!

[ampersand]

Brilliant post, Prue. Through your humour, empathy and wonderful way with words you open a window into the reality of fertility treatment.

Thank you for sharing it all, even dildo cam, with us.

[prue~c]

Thanks ladies. I'm home now and snuggly on the couch. It was the best egg haul yet. They got 24 eggs, 22 of which were mature. Excellent stuff. and even better, I'm not in agony, unlike previous egg retrievals. I daresay I will actually make it to the polls tomorrow. Fingers crossed for good fertilisation rates. I'll update tomorrow.

[LynnyP]

It all sounds very promising. You know, I never thought that it could actually be a pleasure to read about all of that stuff! You are a funny lady.

This post has been edited by LynnyP: 20/08/2010, 07:45 PM

[domestically~cha...]

Well done on the egg haul. Glad to hear of no OHSS signs. Good luck!

[DecafJane]

Thank-you for sharing. It was very helpful to hear it from somebody who has already been through the experience first-hand.

Best of luck with the coming implantation!

I always said that the sonographers who do the transvaginal ultrasounds were the dodgiest bunch in the whole hospital because no other department goes through as many boxes of condoms in a single work week.

This post has been edited by DecafJane: 20/08/2010, 08:07 PM

[Loue]

Fabulous post, thanks for sharing. Fingers crossed for you!