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I found an excuse to bug my nurse for the cryo report. For the sake of shalom bayis I must know the disposition of those struggling little blastocysts! Honest! For those of you who don’t want to click on the link, shalom bayis is literally “peace in the home” – it is the concept of peace and harmony in the household and good relations between husband and wife. In this case, I realized that if there was anything to freeze (again, I think not), then I’m likely to get nailed with ~$1500 bill for freezing and storage (it’s a little less, but just go with me, okay? And actually, it it was just one, it’s significantly less). A girl’s gotta prepare her husband for a bill like that, right?

So, for the sake of domestic tranquility, I emailed SuperNurse and said, you know, I hate to be nosy and all, but does she know the disposition of my struggling little life forms? And really, she wouldn’t want our marriage to be in jeopardy, right? It’s for the sake of our marriage! Plus, after all, enquiring minds want to know! This is front page news! Sort of.

Okay, not remotely, but I’m sure all of you are clamoring to know. Right? RIGHT?

Ahem. All righty then. So it’s just ME that wants to know. Yet another way for me to pass the time. The endless, boring time stretched before me. Another eight, looooooooong days before my beta. With nothing to do but sit here and whine, complain, bitch, blither to you about the mundanity of life when there is absolutely nothing interesting going on in my life. Absolutely nothing worth blogging about.

Nothing to see here, move along. Move along.

Oh! Hey! If there was *nothing* to freeze, maybe I can convince the man that since he just saved $1500 buckeroos, he should take me out to dinner next week to celebrate! Or, um, to console me in my um, sadness. That’s right. Because I’ll be all sad that we won’t have anything to save and therefore won’t have to pay out of pocket for freezing, storage and FETs that the insurance won’t cover… Yeah. Sad. That’s right.

(ooh! And Score! I totally bought a pile of HPTs. They should arrive on my doorstep tomorrow or the next day! They aren’t my beloved FRER’s, but I’m a girl on a budget now. And this should support my habit for at least a little while, right? Just, um, don’t tell my husband, okay? Oh for crying out loud, honey, they cost LESS THAN A DOLLAR EACH! And, no, I did not buy 300 of them. Just 297… KIDDING!)

4dp6dt

bored now.

very proud of myself for not having purchased any HPTs yet. Not that they’d show anything, but you’ve gotta have them ready, right?

Bored.

Really, really, really done with this 2ww stuff.

Every one of my previous cycles I always had in my back pocket my exit strategy. So the 2ww never bothered me. I always knew that the cycle hadn’t worked (yes, I’m a negative nelly), so I was just twiddling my thumbs until the next CD3. I was completely surprised the two times it did work (and completely pissed off at the miscarriage the first time). But I always had the exit strategy: CD3, back to the clinic, start stims, keep going.

But I actually don’t exactly know what happens this time. PIO will keep CD3 from happening, so until I come off of it… no cycle start. And even if I do, what then? I don’t know if there was anything to freeze (I think not), so which is it, fresh or FET? Let’s assume fresh. If fresh, then what? I know you can’t move straight into another fresh cycle, but what does that mean? Does that mean straight to BCPs? Or does that mean waiting a month before BCPs? This is the missing piece of the puzzle piece for me. I think it means straight to BCPs. So 21 days of BCPs, Lupron on Day 19. Lupron Eval. on CD 2 or 3. Start Stims if it’s a go. I think. And I know SuperDoc said that this go around we’d be increasing my Follistim by 100IUs to start.

So is that the plan? I need a plan! I *always* have a plan, and right now, I’m a girl without a plan! This is not okay!

I *could* just make an appointment with SuperDoc to discuss said plan, but: 1. odds are good I won’t be able to get a consult appointment with him before my beta anyway, and 2. if I did, I’d feel ridiculous demanding a plan before I even get to a beta and then end up with a positive beta, as happened last time.

This is my fault. Normally I ask what my exit strategy is ahead of time – but I forgot that it’s all different now.

Now, see, I never used to be high maintenance. And then I went and had this super-high-risk, HOM pregnancy. And I *hated* to be a bother, but they put me on all this home-monitoring stuff and make me talk to a nurse three times a day and hauled me into the office twice a week and put me into the hospital a few times and, well… I learned how to be high maintenance, you see. And now?? I’m really good at it. So I blame the medical field for this. It’s all their fault.

Anyway, I’m not actually going to be high maintenance to them – I’m just going to be high maintenance here in my head. Oh wait, I’m typing all this out loud, aren’t I. Okay, fine. I’m going to be high maintenance publicly, to the blogosphere. But no one twisted your arm, put a gun to your head and forced you to read this blog. So, really? You asked for it!

Did I mention I’m bored?

I swear, I am convinced that PIO makes my Allegra stop working. I cannot breathe, my eyes are all itchy, I’m sniffly, I’m stuffy, I’m teary-eyed, I’m sneezy, I’m ucky, I’m whiny (okay, that has nothing to do with Allegra except that when I feel this way, I get whiny). It’s like I have no allergy medicine on board. It’s as though the progesterone totally inactivates the Allegra. It’s completely ridiculous.

I cannot find appropriate google terms to bring my theory to life, but allergies can be aggravated during pregnancy – though this seems to be a phenomenon that is most severe in late pregnancy (29-36 weeks) so my bet is taking a few PIO shots is not the culprit. But, um. I still say the PIO is to blame. Because what else am I going to blame?

And I am getting too many darned migraines, which I know is the fault of the progesterone. And my screwed up body. Thanks for nothing.

And just think? If I get pregnant (hah!) I can stay on this stuff for EVER!

No Cryo Report

I didn’t hear whether there was anything to freeze. I wasn’t surprised not to hear over the weekend, but I figured my nurse would call today. I didn’t want to bother her with a phone call – Mondays are busy days (understandably).

But…

You know…

I mean…

It’d be nice to know.

Frankly, it sounds crazy but I’m half of a mind that I’d prefer there wasn’t anything to freeze. Because…

1. if this cycle works (hah!)… well, then I don’t have to worry about paying storage fees or worry about what to do if we decide we’re done family building now. It’s just done.

2. If this cycle doesn’t work, I’d prefer to move on to a fresh cycle anyway. Let’s face it, these embryos were slow-growing crappy embryos. I mean, I *love* them, and they’re perfect in my eyes (just for the record should my future children ever read these posts… AHEM), but you know, they weren’t optimal. Furthermore, my insurance doesn’t cover FETs, which is phenomenally stupid. So it would actually cost me more to do an FET than a fresh cycle. Plus, if there was, say, only one that made it to freeze, what are the odds that it survives the thaw? Yeah.

I’ll call tomorrow and ask. I just *hate* calling for something this unimportant. I know they’re busy and it’s not like this is time sensitive information. I can certainly wait until the next time I have to talk to my nurse for some other reason and ask her then. But I’d like to know. But, I could wait, right? Of course right. So what to do. Sigh. I know I’m a client. I know I pay a lot of money for a service. And calling them for one tiny piece of information shouldn’t be a huge imposition. I just hate being a pain in the ass patient, so I try to avoid being one. And, um, I fail miserably at it.

But, you know, there’s not much else to do in this ridiculous 2ww. Ladeedaa…

I had a HIGH-LARIOUS conversation today with Barren about how long I’m likely to hold out before POAS. I’d share it with you, but my husband already thinks I’m psychotic when it comes to the whole POAS topic. Plus, J (Marketing Supervisor Extraordinaire) might rat me out to SuperDoc and tell them I’m planning on cheating.

Not that I’m planning to, mind you. I’m planning on holding out until the beta on the 18th. But hello??? You all know me, right? Of course right. There is SO no way I’m holding out that long. I can’t believe I haven’t already POAS’d. Puh-lease.

Okay, I’ve stayed pretty quiet on the octuplet-story for a reason. The whole thing ticks me off, but, it’s kind of cliche to say so, isn’t it? I mean, it’s OBVIOUS that it ticks me off, right? I mean, I put myself out there ON TELEVISION for my clinic because it ticks me off so much. Hello? My neighbors could have found out that I’m in the middle of an IVF cycle because of this. I do NOT discuss my IVF status with my neighbors! (Fortunately, it aired on a Friday night. Sneaky, I know! Er… though it turned out one of my friend’s nannies saw me on TV and blabbed about it to everyone. Foiled again!)

Anywho!

This is not the point.

So some crazy chick goes and gets herself pregnant with six children. She’s not married (SO WHAT? PEOPLE! Since when is it a pre requisite to be married to be a mother! GET OVER YOURSELVES!) Two of them are twins. At least one is autistic. She’s a student. And then she goes back to her RE, she has, theoretically, six frozen embryos, according to her story, and she tells him to transfer them all. He obliges, for whatever reason, and bada bing, bada boom, against all odds, the gamble she took turns out (according to her) “perfectly” and thirty weeks later, she has octuplets. Unbelievably, she actually has healthy octuplets.

Now here’s what REALLY pisses me off about the whole damn thing.

For the love of PETE, can no reporter in this God-forsaken country figure out that in an IVF or FET cycle a reproductive endocrinologist TRANSFERS embryos? They do not IMPLANT embryos.

Is it so much to ask that they get this one tiny word correct?? Is it so much to ask that with a story this big and destined to be ongoing that we get the terminology correct at long last????? Honestly, the frickin’ New York Times can’t even get the term correct on a regular basis- what has the world come to?

It seems like such a small issue, but it really isn’t. If doctors could implant embryos, it would mean they could guarantee pregnancy. Maybe not ongoing, successful pregnancies, but at least initial pregnancies. This is an important point because the word “implantation” skews the public perception of IVF, fertility patients, and reproductive endocrinologists. It leads people to believe that every time a patient undergoes IVF, if they transfer 2 embryos, they are guaranteed to be pregnant with two babies afterward. This is, of course, far from a guarantee, as you well know. Even with my one blastocyst, I have only a 40% chance of pregnancy – which means a 60% chance of failure. If my doctor could have implanted that blastocyst into my uterine lining, rather than just transferring it to my uterus and letting it float around until it decides whether it will implant, it would have been a 100% guarantee of pregnancy.

As far as I understand, doctors so far haven’t been able to pinpoint what determines whether a particular embryo will or will not implant (though it does seem that high grade embryos have a tendency to implant at a higher rate than lower grade embryos, but that doesn’t mean that low grade embryos never implant – certainly low grade embryos do implant and grow to become healthy babies and there are plenty of high grade embryos that never implant, but no one knows why).

Beyond the implant vs. transfer issue, it just seems that the media is so focused on her unwed status and the fact that she already has six children that it is infuriating. The first question that one of the reporters asked me (that didn’t make it into the televised report, I’m certain because I didn’t give the soundbite they were looking for), was “What do you think of this unmarried mother of six children who just had eight babies out in California?” My answer? I don’t think anything about her since I don’t know her, though I feel for the situation she’s now in and I know she’s got a number of challenges ahead of her, and I’m concerned about what led her to be in this position in the first place.

Am I concerned that her doctor possibly repeatedly did IVF procedures with her involving 6 embryos each time? Yes. I am concerned about it because it far exceeds the standards set by the American Society for Reproductive Medicine/Society for Assisted Reproductive Technology’s standards for embryo transfers for women under the age of 35 (she is 33), which recommend no more than 1 or 2 (preferably 1, when possible) embryos be transferred in an IVF cycle. I am concerned because this mother’s answer is “Those are my children, and that’s what was available, and I used them. So, I took a risk. It’s a gamble. It always is.”

While, yes, the embryos are her property, what about her doctor’s obligation to protect her risks? What about “First, do no harm” as stated in the Hippocratic Oath? I know that there are various ethical and legal issues here. A doctor can’t – and shouldn’t turn away a patient on the basis of “she has six children already, therefore I’m not going to treat her with IVF in order to have one more.” Nor can a doctor withhold her property – her embryos – from her on that basis. No doctor has the right to tell a woman that just because she has six children she is therefore not allowed to have any more children, except under extreme cases where the doctor is concerned about abuse, perhaps drug use, severe psychosis. A doctor refusing to treat a patient must be prepared to offer names of other doctors who may be willing to treat that patient. But just disagreeing with a lifestyle choice to have a big family is not a reason to turn away a patient for treatment.

Certainly, there are people who feel that I shouldn’t have more children. People who feel that I have no right to want, to expect, to try to have more children. And obviously my doctor thinks that I’m completely off my rocker to try to have more. But he never refused me treatment. (He may have called me meshuga a few times, but that’s another story). Only my husband and I have a right to decide when our family is complete. The size of our family isn’t anyone else’s business.

BUT – there’s a line to be drawn. I shouldn’t have a right to force my doctor to do something that is potentially life-threatening. I shouldn’t be able to force my doctor to do something that he believes could compromise the lives of me or the potential babies that could result from treatment. I have heard some arguments and seen some court cases that have argued that, in fact, a patient ultimately has total control over the decisions to be made about what happens with her embryos. But can that be true? Should that be true? I don’t think it should be. Ultimately, I wouldn’t want that to be true, particularly after I’ve completely pumped myself full of hormones and made myself completely irrational. I want my experienced doctor to guide me in my decisions and to look out for my safety and for the safety of my potential children.

A doctor should be able to have some autonomy to be able to say, “No, I will not put your life in danger. I will not transfer six embryos to your uterus, because that will potentially endanger your life.” And, frankly, that’s what her doctor should have done. If what this woman is saying is true – then she had five successful IVF cycles in the past, so there was no medical reason to believe that she needed to have six transferred this time in order to have a chance at success this time.

Many have criticized the mother for not selectively reducing the pregnancy – but I can’t condemn her for that. I can’t and I won’t. Until you’ve walked down that path of decision making – you simply cannot even imagine how difficult it is to even consider such a thing. And I don’t blame her a bit for refusing it.

I just think we’re all focusing on the wrong issues.

Issue 1: Transfer not Implant, people!
Issue 2: Who cares if she’s married?
Issue 3: It is irrelevan
t that she already has six children.
Issue 4: What IS relevant is that she shouldn’t have had the final say in how many embryos got transferred to her uterus. Her DOCTOR should have had that say, and her doctor should have said “absolutely not.”

But really, the most important issue here is that it is a transfer, not an implantation. I’m so sick of hearing “implant” in this news cycle. I almost threw my computer across the room the other day reading the AP news story after the Today show report.

The one good thing I can say for Ms. Suleman is this: She, at least, used the word transfer when speaking to NBC. Even if the damn reporter couldn’t get it right.

Thumb Twiddling

“So… how’s that bed rest thing going for you, dear?” my husband sarcastically asked me while watching me clean up the living room.

Yeah. Um. So you know, now I totally get why it is that my perinatologist said that if I get pregnant even so much as with twins he’s admitting me to the hospital at 12 weeks. I thought maybe, just maybe, that was a little alarmist, but… no. No, it’s totally on the money, and I get it now. He knows me. He knows me very well. I was an extraordinarily good patient and did everything he told me to do in my last pregnancy, but it would be a physical impossibility this time around, and he knows it. There is just no way. I will absolutely shoot myself if I end up with monozygotic twins.

In other news, progesterone makes me hungry, I think. I am almost never hungry, but twice this weekend, I was suddenly ravenous. But absolutely nothing appealed to me. Sigh.

A bunch of you asked if I had anything good enough to freeze yesterday… I hadn’t said anything about freezing in part because I forgot to, and in part because I actually don’t know. As of yesterday, nothing was there yet, but they just didn’t know yet if anything would make it to freeze. I didn’t get any calls/messages today, so my guess is no. I’ll check with NurseAwesome (whose name, I think, I’m going to change to SuperNurse – I like the parallelism with SuperDoc) on Monday, but … I’m pretty sure the answer is no.

Speaking of your questions – Lori, the answer to your questions are 1. I live two blocks from my synagogue and 2. Yes.

Someone also sent me an email today asking me if I’d mind elaborating about who my clinic actually is – just for the record, if you’re looking for a clinic for treatment, and you’re looking for a referral, etc., I am more than happy to share this information (as was the case with this particular friend). If you’re asking out of plain curiosity, please respect my privacy. I use a pseudonym for the clinics for two reasons – to keep myself as ungoogleable as possible (in real life terms I mean) and also to protect the innocent – I’d hate to be having a bad day, accidentally say something not-nice about my clinic (not that I can imagine doing so, but you never know, right?) and have that be the impression I leave with folks. I have the highest regard for my clinics, the physicians there, the nursing and professional staff, etc. and I am thrilled to be able to refer anyone else to this wonderful clinic as I believe that they provide the highest quality of care available in a caring, compassionate manner with an individualized approach and proven success rates. And no, I’m not on their payroll.

Finally, I am annoyed with a friend. I made my standard remark about how I’d shoot myself if I ended up with monozygotic triplets. But I qualified it by saying that yes, I know the odds are certainly against it. But hello? I had like 5% odds of conceiving HOMs the last time! Heck, that last cycle, SuperDoc didn’t expect me to get pregnant at all. The whole cycle was a disaster that was doomed to fail, and in the eyes of reproductive endocrinologists everywhere, frankly, it did. Which is why when I walked back into SuperDoc’s office, he took one look at me and said, “Okay, so how about that IVF with elective single embryo transfer idea, shall we?” And there was no question that that’s what we’d be doing this go-around. ANYWAY, I made this remark to my friend and she, in her self-righteous way, as usual said, “I don’t know why you didn’t think you’d end up with HOM’s. As soon as you triggered with, what 12 follicles last time, I knew you’d be pregnant with HOM’s.”

Let me tell you something… no one. NO ONE knows what’s going on with my cycles as clearly as my doctors do, including me. Even I don’t have my entire chart with all the associated bloodwork and ultrasounds, etc. laid out in front of me when crucial decisions are being made.

I questioned my doctor’s decision to trigger me that day for nearly two years – you all know this. I went back to his office in January and told him that I couldn’t understand it. That while I love the smiling faces in the nursery that greet me every morning, and I’m grateful for the gifts he gave me, I’m still plagued by that decision he made that day and could he please tell me why, oh why he made that decision. Suffice it to say, I was more than satisfied with his response. It was clear that he had absolutely no reason to believe that I had any significant risk of an HOM pregnancy. In fact, in all of my other cycles, I had been warned whenever I had more than one dominant follicle, that I could have a twin pregnancy as a result. In that cycle, no such warning was presented to me. What I’d been told, quite clearly, was that I had very little chance that any pregnancy would result from that cycle, and we prepared to move on to my IVF cycle immediately.

There is no possibility that I would still be with this doctor at this clinic today if I thought that there had been any recklessness in that decision on that day. Believe me, I never sought to have HOMs. I love them. I can’t imagine my life without them. But it was never my goal, and it most certainly is not my goal to repeat the experience.

It is for this and similar reasons that I choose not to share with the group the logic behind the particular blastocyst that was chosen for transfer. SuperDoc shared with me the grade of the blastocyst that he and the embryologist had chosen, and what the other option had been, and explained why it was the best option. He also explained that he believed with this particular blastocyst, I have, perhaps, a 40% chance of achieving pregnancy (I didn’t ask if by that he meant implantation or ongoing pregnancy – I am not sure I want to know). I don’t wish to share the grade at this time because I find when people do such things that commenters start making their own judgments as to the odds and likelihoods and all that. And I already have a doctor for that and I just don’t want to hear it. I can’t hear it, honestly. I have put my trust in my medical team, and that’s where I need to leave it, for otherwise, I will lose my grip on what little sanity I have.

I leave you with a picture of George:


So this morning was a complete whirlwind and nothing was going right for the first couple hours of the morning (all of which related to things best n0t discussed on an infertility blog), but things eventually calmed down and I was working from home before leaving for my transfer (this was part of what didn’t go as planned – I had planned to be in the office for at least 2 hours before my appointment…). At some point, I looked at the clock and realized I’d been holding my breath all morning. Nine thirty. They would have called by now if everything had tanked and they were going to cancel. I hadn’t even realized that the thought was on my mind.

I set up a document to print at my office and grabbed a bottle of water, a pan of brownies, my keys, and my coat and went on my merry way. I stopped at the office to pick up the document I needed (a little light reading for the waiting room…whee!), and then headed up to Ye Olde Fertility Clinic. I called J, Marketing Supervisor Extraordinaire, as I was pulling into the parking lot. “So I’m early. Do I go upstairs and sit in the waiting room? Or do I bring you a brownie? You wouldn’t want to risk SuperDoc eating them all, would you?”

“You didn’t really bring brownies, did you?”
“J? Of course I did. I told you I was going to, and I always deliver!”

Needless to say, there was brownie delivery prior to waiting room waiting and document review.

And then my moment arrived… I was whisked back in to the transfer room. Asked to recite my name and social security number a few times, told to undress (waist down) and wait for SuperDoc. No problem. Except at some point I realized that my goal of a so-called “moderately full bladder” had, well, been exceeded. But I was good. Really. For a while. But the clock, it kept a-ticking. 5 minutes. 10 minutes. 20 minutes… Honestly what was worrying me the most was that they’d pulled out my little beauties and decided that they were all pretty useless after all and were trying to figure out how to break the news to a homicidal hormonal fertility patient. And finally SuperDoc walked in.

“So, did you pick a good one?”
“We might have more than one to choose from, but I know which one we’re going to use.”
“I’m just saying, you know, if you pick a good one, there might be some brownies in it for you, because I know that changes everything for you.”
“Well, in that case, we’ll be sure to pick the very best one. Since we weren’t going to do that anyway.”

We talked for a bit about which embryo he was going to transfer, and why.

He then reviewed the “Embryo Disposition Report.
“Okay, 10 retrieved, 9 fertilized, etc. etc. and we’re transferring 8, sign here.”

I. Lost. It.

I mean, all-out, completely hyperventilating, lost it. I told him I wasn’t signing that piece of paper (which CLEARLY said transferring 1) unless he TOOK THAT BACK. No even JOKING about that! Not with that timing.

“Don’t you remember my reaction when you told me how many heartbeats there were?”
“I think this reaction might be worse!”
“I think you might NOT get brownies!”

I made the embryologist get me a picture to prove there was just one. JUST ONE. (I have the picture, but haven’t been able to scan it yet. Will do so later. I assure you, it’s a cute little blastocyst. Early, and not totally perfect, but perfect enough for me. I mean, honestly, it was just a ploy to *get* a picture, but a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do, right?

(By the way, SuperDoc did note my “impressively full” bladder several times on the ultrasound. Rub it in, doc. Rub it in. See if I ever bring you triple-chocolate brownies again.)

I told SuperDoc after the transfer, “I swear to you, if this single blastocyst splits twice and I end up with monozygotic triplets -“
“-I’ll shoot myself,” he finished for me.
“You might have to fight me for it.”
“And if we only have one gun and one bullet, we might have a problem!”

After my allotted period of “rest” my nurse came in and looked at the picture of George (my blastocyst) and said, “Oh look, they transferred both of them! That’s great!” I almost decked her. Watch out there, or I might change your pseudonym from NurseAwesome to… well, something else. She went over my discharge instructions, and took some brownies (which I distributed all around, I took another for J (Marketing Supervisor Extraordinaire), and sent the rest to SuperDoc’s office (see? I don’t hold a grudge!).

I brought a brownie down to J’s office and bid him adieu. “I’m not back here until the 18th! What will I do without you, Marketing Supervisor Extraordinaire?”
“Oh, I’m sure we’ll be emailing.”
“Aren’t you sick of me yet?”
~dramatic pause~
“Of course not!”
(I’m kidding, there was no dramatic pause, but go with me here, it’s more interesting my way, right?)
“Well, maybe I’ll make my appointment for my beta late enough in the morning that I can bring you cookies.”
“Oh no! I don’t know how I can stay friends with you! I’m going to be 400 lbs!”

I’m thinking snickerdoodles… Yeah, ’cause those are low fat. Ahem.

I mean, there is the theoretical possibility that I’ll get pregnant this cycle and he’ll be rid of me. Right? RIGHT?

Yeah. Um. Seriously? I still can’t say that with a straight face.

While I do try to keep this particular blog focused specifically on issues of infertility, IVF, cycling, etc. I also recognize that I confuse my readers by posting things without a lot of explanation sometimes. Not all my readers are Jewish, so I get a lot of questions (usually via email) regarding the Jewish terms and customs I allude to. Since my last FAQ sparked two Jewishly-related questions, I’ll post them here, though I’m pretty tired and foggy, so no guarantees on my coherence…

Q: what exactly is shabbos prep? while i lived in a neighborhood with large orthodox jewish population for several years and am familiar with some of the practices, there are a lot of things with which i’m unfamiliar.
So… on Shabbos (the Sabbath), there are lots of things we don’t do. It is a complete day of rest, in which normal weekday activity is suspended. No cooking, no affecting electricity (in other words, I don’t turn on lights, but neither do I turn them off – so it’s not like I’m sitting in the dark all day), no driving, no sewing, computer, no phone, no um, winnowing, no, well, lots of other stuff. So, while I don’t love to describe Shabbos as a series of negatives, go with me here on the set up, okay?

You can imagine that with all of the things that I can’t do, in order to have a day completely set apart from the rest of the week – a day focused completely on my family, my faith, and my community – I have to make sure that my house and my meals are completely ready before the sun sets. I should also point out that the Sabbath is a day of celebration, every week. It is a Holy Day – and it is special. Our houses should be clean, we use our finest china, our nicest table cloths, we cook our nicest meals, we have guests or we are guests at other peoples’ homes (right, because we get so many invitations out these days…but I digress). Anyway, all the cooking for three meals (Friday night dinner, Saturday lunch, and a lighter “third meal” Saturday late afternoon/early evening, depending on the time of year) has to be done ahead of time. Children, if you have any, should theoretically be clean (hah), and changed into Shabbos-clothes (good luck with that) before sundown. At the very least, a tablecloth should be put on the table before you light candles at sundown, but preferably, the table should be fully set (this is brilliant if, like me, you have cats … again, good luck with that. And if you’ve got a toddler in the house? I highly recommend against setting the table before you absolutely must).

So, um, those are the basics. There’s cooking. And cleaning. Oh, and making sure all the lights, etc. in the house are where you want them to be, since you can’t change them once Shabbos starts. It’s always a whirlwind at the end here. It’ll be interesting to see what happens tomorrow when I can’t be lifting my kids, running around, standing in the kitchen, or any of that stuff… But, it’s not like I’ve never been on bed rest before.

Q: I agree that Jewish law regarding embryos is complex, but I’m confused by your saying there isn’t a lot of choice involved because of the complexity and don’t understand what you are indicating.

I’m actually not going to get too deep into this, because everyone’s rabbi poskens differently on this. My rabbi (who has a specialty in this area of halacha) has one very straightforward opinion on the one and only thing that may be done with leftover embryos that are not going to be used for a future pregnancy. I have other friends (both in “real” life and “inside the computer”) whose rabbis rule the exact opposite of my rabbi – but that doesn’t mean that my rabbi or their rabbis are wrong. They simply interpret and apply the halacha (law) differently. Some Jewish legal scholars do not allow embryo donation/adoption under any circumstances. Some allow it only if you can guarantee that the embryo will be donated to a Jewish couple. Some allow it under any circumstances. Some rabbis allow embryos to be donated to research – but others require that the embryos be destroyed and discarded. The reasons behind each individual rabbi’s decisions are, honestly, beyond my understanding. While I spend a great deal of time working to understand the logic and the details behind my treatment protocols and my medical care – when it comes to the halachic details – truthfully, I simply ask for my rabbi’s guidance and leave it at that. So I won’t speak for his answers, I will simply say that I haven’t been left with a lot of choices in terms of the disposition of any leftover embryos once our family building is complete.

But, I’ll point out, I haven’t made any firm commitments on when our family building will be complete.

Anything I missed?

I know, I know, ever since my recent media appearances, it’s been hard to escape my adoring fans, the ruthless paparazzi, the constant phone calls, the text messages, the overflowing mailbox, the neverending emails… It’s a hard life, but someone has to live it, right? At least I can say that stardom has most definitely NOT gone to my head.

So you, my adoring fans, have questions. And, it turns out, I have a couple of answers. . .

Q: What time will your transfer be tomorrow?
Well, I’m glad you asked. Because I just got a call from my nurse answering that very question! I’m scheduled for 11:15 tomorrow morning. Be there at 10:45 with a “moderately” full bladder and instructions not to use the bathroom upon arriving at the office. Now, I find this incredibly hilarious. Have you ever tried to exactly provide a “moderately” full bladder? Yeah, it doesn’t happen. Either you end up with an empty bladder, or you’re sitting in the waiting room absolutely DYING and eventually a nurse says, “Okay, you can pee, but only THIS much.” And really, have you ever tried to pee just, say 30ccs with a completely overflowing bladder?? Yeah, it doesn’t actually work that way. So good luck with that. (I will say that the serious advantage of having had HOMs is that I never had to have bladder-filled ultrasounds in my pregnancy… that would have been sheer misery)

Q: But what about Shabbos preparations? How will you manage?
Fortunately, I’m not the only super-hero in my household. My husband, darling man that he is (see? I can say that now that I’m not on Lupron!), can totally handle Shabbos prep all on his own. That, and I’m going to cook as much as I can tonight so that it doesn’t ALL fall on him.

Q: How long will you be on bed rest?
My clinic, apparently, is “East Coast Conservative” on this issue. There have been several studies done on the benefits of no bed rest after transfer vs. 24 hours vs. 48 vs. 72 etc. So there’s some benefit to bed rest, but 72 hours seems to (maybe) be overkill. So we’re a 24-hour clinic. Look at me, referring to the clinic staff as “we”. Yeah, I’m there so much I feel like I work there. I assure you, I don’t. Though for all the free press I give them, I ought to be on the payroll.

Q: If you have 3 good embryos and they implant 1 and you freeze the other two and the first embryo takes and results in a successful pregnancy what do you do with the other two embryos?
Well, first I’m going to nitpick here a little – Doctors can’t implant embryos. They can only transfer embryos into the uterus and hope that it implants into the uterine wall. Implantation = pregnancy (though no guarantee of ongoing pregnancy). If doctors could implant embryos (and who knows? Maybe someday they will be able to!), they would always implant a single embryo in all IVF cycles – because it would be a 100% initial pregnancy rate. The media, for WHATEVER reason has never been able to keep these terms straight. For crying out loud, the frickin’ New York Times can’t even get the term right. If they can’t, who can we expect to get the term right? The problem with getting the term wrong is that it causes the general public to have a skewed view of the reality of fertility treatment. It makes the general public believe that IVF is more of a sure thing than it is. While IVF success rates have skyrocketed in the last several years, it is still not a guarantee. And when the general public perceives that every cycle is a guarantee that each embryo transferred equals a guaranteed baby, they think that women who come out of fertility treatment with multiple babies had it coming. And frankly? That’s unfair. So I’m on a mission to blot out the misuse of the term implant.

But I digress, because I didn’t actually get to the heart of your question, did I? You want to know what I’ll do with any leftover embryos should I have any frozen and should I get pregnant on my first go-round.

Well, I imagine the author of this article would have you believe that having any frozen embryos from this cycle would be an irresponsible consequence and rather poor planning on my part. And, further that the only morally acceptable choice for any remaining embryos that we have would be to enter into an embryo adoption program. But… that author probably never went through IVF himself. I daresay he actually never spoke with an actual IVF patient. And, further, probably never actually spoke with a reproductive endocrinologist or fertility science researcher. No, I’d guess that he never read beyond the abstracts of the studies he cited or the party lines of the political think tanks he references. Instead, he proudly waves the banner of prochoice moralism and dismisses any opinion other than his own, woefully uneducated one.

Right. Off soapbox now (but for a brilliantly written soapbox on this very article – I highly recommend Akeeyu’s post!)

Clearly, I didn’t have the luxury of telling my doctor to make sure to only create one embryo and make sure there were no others that survived. (I mean, that very well may still happen – but if it does, that’s Darwinism in action, not anything pre-planned). I certainly wasn’t going to tell him only to fertilize one egg and hope THAT one was the one that lived. (Don’t worry, I don’t think you, my reader, were suggesting that I should have done so. I’m just still so pissed off at that article… which, by the way, I read over a MONTH ago and my blood is still boiling). So, sure, I ran the risk that I would make more embryos than I needed for my planned single embryo transfer.

But, then again, we also knew that I wasn’t *quite* the ideal candidate for eSET… and so we knew that I wasn’t looking at the standard 67% odds on an eSET cycle that my clinic has. I was looking at 40-45% odds going in, which SuperDoc revised to…oh, 30% about halfway through my cycle. So clearly, having some back ups? Good thing. (again, still don’t know that I’ll have any back ups…)

So what if I get 3 blasts by tomorrow? We transfer one, freeze 2. And then, let’s say, I get a BFP? (Hah! I can’t say that with a straight face yet. But for the sake of argument…) What then?

Well, we’ll start with the knowledge that I’ve already had one late miscarriage, so a BFP for me does not necessarily equal an ongoing pregnancy. So I’m not holding my breath, first of all. But… if I do get and stay pregnant and deliver my (healthy? Please God) singleton baby (9? Please?) months later… what then?

Well, I’m not promising our family is complete with one more baby. Maybe it is. But I don’t know yet. We know that right now, we want at least one more baby. And that probably is it for us. But not because we want to be done, but because of the financial hardship of having more after that point… we’re already stretched financially, so one more? Sure. But two more? Probably more than we can handle. But option one is we hang out for a while until we are certain our family is complete. And that IS the current plan.

After that, our choices are between my husband and myself, and those decisions are up to us for the moment. We do have a plan, and they are documented in our consent forms with Ye Olde Fertility Clinic (though they’ll have to be revisited at the end of a specified period of time). But it’s our plan, and ours alone. (I will say that Jewish law is pretty complex in this area, so there isn’t a lot of choice involved, but regardless, our plan is docume
nted)

Sorry for the long answer to a seemingly simple question.

Q: What happens to those embryos that don’t make it to freezing or transfer but are still considered viable?
This question came from an anonymous commenter. I’m not entirely certain that I understand this question. Honestly, if by Day 6 the embryos haven’t made it to a stage suitable to freeze, they aren’t really all that viable any more. I’ll check with Ye Olde Fertility Clinic, but I assume any non-suitable embryos are discarded in a respectful manner.

Q: All this fine-tuning seems sensible and makes me wonder how the Hatchery does those batches when obviously tailoring to individual response is needed.
This is from the same anonymous commenter. Yes, YOFC has been doing very sensible fine-tuning, which is fantastic considering that YOFC is an enormous clinic. Other clinics in the area accuse my clinic (without naming names, of course) of being a “revolving door of doctors” and tout themselves as being able to individualize care in a way that the “bigger clinics cannot”. I’m here to tell you – YOFC individualizes every patient’s care and treatment plan. They don’t just have one set protocol and squeeze each patient into it. They have been extraordinarily flexible with my protocol, recognizing that the fine tuning is where the success will come from.

As for The Hatchery – they do batch their patients for the start of their cycles (every two weeks), but they almost have to do so because they have one doctor and one doctor only. This gives him the ability to have one retrieval weekend and one transfer weekend per month on average according to his nurse. But he, too, has built in flexibility. And because he sees fewer patients, he’s able to individualize care plans very easily as well. For example – though they have never done an elective Single Embryo Transfer, and he wasn’t totally comfortable with the idea of having his hands tied on that issue (me saying that under no circumstances would I allow him to transfer two), he was willing to work with me on that. He never takes his patients to blast and always transfers on Day 3. Why? Because when he was doing blastocyst transfers, he found that he had a much higher pregnancy rate, but no more babies. His ongoing pregnancy rate didn’t change with blastocyst transfer. He couldn’t figure out why, either. However what he did say was that with me and me alone he was thinking that to do an eSET, what he’d probably do would be to take me to blastocyst before transferring. So he was definitely flexible in terms of the protocol and the timing, etc.

Obviously, with the batching, there is occasionally some overlap of patients, but it is kept to a minimum for him this way.

Any other questions??

Day 6

No transfer today. Moving to a Day 6 transfer (tomorrow).

I, personally, think this is really all rather rude. I was waffling this morning about moving my afternoon meetings. If I moved them, for sure I was going to end up rescheduled, right? If I didn’t move them, I was going to end up with transfer staying on today’s schedule and having to cancel my meetings at the last minute. So, at 6:45, I rearranged my calendar, just in case.

And then, on my way in to work, my nurse called.

“Hi Perky One…”
“Oh this can’t be good.”
“We’re moving you to tomorrow.”
“Oh for the love of Pete.” (I admit I may have been, um, slightly less delicate than that)

Turns out, things are actually growing for a change (maybe we’ll even have something to freeze? Did I just say that?), but they’re growing slowly and unevenly and nothing’s made it to blast yet.

So… we’ll see what goes down tomorrow…