I feel like I’ve jinxed the whole thing. I spent so long focusing on how to be ‘calm and zen’ that I found myself last night, not 12 hours after our transfer, sitting on the couch yelling at poor old Mr Bun and generally getting into a right old tizz.
The transfer went OK. We had a different doctor, as Dr D is overseas.
I (quite helpfully, I thought) pointed out to the doctor on duty that I have a ‘retroverted uterus and last time Dr D used a different catheter and that seemed to work quite well and you might find that…’ He silenced me with a polite, but firm look. He seemed to have everything under control. Right then. I’ll shut it.
So, we transferred an 8-cell embryo and went off into the cold Saturday morning air for breakfast and a spot of wandering around the hallowed halls of Bunnings – me walking slowly and calmly, being calm, thinking calm thoughts. Then an hour of acupuncture, where I dozed off and really did feel nice ‘n relaxed. We dropped into the DVD shop on the way home, and then I vegged on the couch under the blanket watching junk teeve.
And that’s when it began. My ridiculously neurotically stupid mind started whirring …
‘What did I do after last transfer? … I certainly didn’t go to Bunnings! Or the DVD shop! Gawd, should I have gone straight home? How irresponsible of me! Last time Mr Bun and I were all lovey-dovey … we held hands and LAUGHED. This time, he’s changing lightbulbs and I don’t think we’ve EVEN SPOKEN FOR TWO HOURS. Aw jeez. It’s all over before it’s begun. I feel so edgy. So anxious. Calmcalmcalmcalm come now breathebreathebreathe shitting hell this is a disaster WHAT AM I DOING – STOP STRESSING!!!!’ …
Look, it wasn’t pretty and I’m not proud, but that’s basically how my mind went for most of yesterday. The more I told myself to relax, the more wound up I got – I felt as if every negative thought was another nail in the proverbial coffin. Obviously ridiculous, and a fair example of what pressure does to anyone – let alone a chick jumped-up on hormones and hope.
Hysterics aside, this does feel very different to last time. Post our third transfer (that was successful, then not), I really did feel this almost ethereal, hippy-like glow of everything just being ‘right’. I sorta knew that it had worked. This time, I don’t feel that way. And that’s upset me. I know it’s not rational, and stress isn’t even meant to affect IVF at all, but it still feels off. So – I’m taking my meds, eating biscuits, watching too much telly and will try and enjoy my week off work as a ‘mental break’ … rather than a ‘get pregnant break’. The latter’s just too much pressure.
We find out on Tuesday how our other two embryos fared in the petri dish wilderness. If one (or two!?) make it, that’s fantastic – we have an FET up our sleeves. If not, bring on another Stim round. I can take it.