"Don't forget to say a prayer." I whispered to Eddie as he left the house to catch his train on Friday.
The sun wasn't up yet but I was wide awake. That day marked another egg retrieval day but Eddie couldn't come with me this time. I had been giving myself shots in the stomach for weeks and for the past two weeks I had to give myself two a day. The last shot I gave myself had to be exactly 36 hours before the retrieval. The science behind this whole process is mind boggling.
Eddie usually refuses to give me the shots but this was the last dose of the normal hormones so I made him.
With this try, my doctors decided to do a "long protocol." Basically, what it means is that they want to control everything. With the first two tries I gave myself additional hormones on top of the ones my body was already making ("short protocol") but this time they wanted to try something different. First, I gave myself a shot that told my body not to produce the hormones by itself. The additional shot was the hormone in the specified dose that stimulated my ovaries. My doctors wanted my body to do nothing and the medicine to do everything. To me, that meant more money, more time, more alarms, more shots, more pricks, more bruises, more stress...but hopefully, more possibilities. I would do ANYTHING for a higher chance of becoming pregnant. I don't know if the desperation that I feel some days could ever be put into words.
Rewind -
One night, I ended up in the emergency room. I woke up after a night shift with extreme abdominal pain. I tossed and turned and cried in bed while Eddie looked on in horror. He made me a hot water bottle and gave me some pain medicine but the pain persisted. I kept thinking to myself that if child birth is worse than this, I might not make it through it. I had to work another night shift that night so I popped another pain pill and packed my hot water bottle. I told myself I would take care of the babies while leaning against the isolette, and then sit down to document everything whenever possible. When I got to work, I was shocked to see that I couldn't close my scrub pants! Only the very bottom button would button. I pulled my top down over them and went to my station for report. We were short nurses that night so I told myself I couldn't call off. I let the charge nurse know that I couldn't walk standing up straight and that I might need to sit a lot that night and she looked at me like I was crazy. She summoned the resident to assess me and she asked if I still had my appendix. "Uh...yes..." I said. Crap! I never thought of that. "It can't be appendicitis," I thought. "it will ruin our ICSI cycle!" She sent me to the emergency room where, after a few frustrating hours, low temp, and minimal left shift, the exact cause could not be determined. Two days later my doctor said it could have been a burst cyst (?). Never heard of those before but, let me tell you, they are no fun.
Fast forward -
I just got done shaving my legs (can't have hairy legs while in the stirrups) the morning of the retrieval when I got a text message. It was from Ed Frick -
"Love you, Mitz! It will be alright, no matter how it will turn out, 'cause we're the best! Good luck! I said my prayer!"
The last sentence made me so happy. Ed wasn't raised in a very religious family. When he mentions God or praying I swell with pride. I always pray for God to not give up on him and I reassure Him that Eddie will find Him on his own soon.
Olivia, my sister-in-law, arrived to drive me to my appointment. During the drive, she asked me if I was nervous. I said I was scared but not because of the anesthesia or pain but only that they wouldn't get many eggs. We also discussed more important things like our options for lunch. ;) I had to be NPO after midnight but Olivia was obviously allowed to eat something. She told me while I was in the operating room she would leave to get something to eat but I told her they won't let her leave and come back. She was bummed but then got pretty excited when she found a bag, no, sorry, THREE bags, of sunflower seeds in her purse.
We were the first ones to arrive. We were there even before the employees. I started to panic when I saw all the lights off thinking that maybe I had the wrong day and took the last shot more than 36 hrs prior...but then they showed. The nurse led us into the changing room and Olivia told me I should take locker number 3 because it was our third try. I made a mental note that there are 11 lockers...I hope I never have to use locker number 11.
Olivia and I giggled a little while they prepped me and eventually they wheeled me back into the procedure room. The nurses commented on my slippers.
"I got them in America." I told them.
"Ooooooo" they said in unison.
I smiled thinking "That gets them every time."
I did the "twisted tooth fairy routine" and put my underwear under my pillow and walked to the operating table. They handed me the phone and I identified myself to the woman in the lab staring at me through the glass window. Then they eased me back onto the table. One nurse strapped in my legs while the anesthesiologist put a blood pressure cuff on my right arm. She began strapping in my left arm but I wasn't ready.
"Entschuldigung, darf ich kurz meinen linken Arm wieder haben?"
("Excuse me, may I please have my left arm again for a second?")
They were so quick to strap in my limbs but I didn't get a chance to say my prayer yet.
"Ja, klar..." she said.
("Yes, of course..")
I folded my hands and murmured my prayer. I asked him to bless the doctors and the nurses. I asked that he keep them alert. I also asked him for many eggs and that, in his grace, I wake up again. When I opened my eyes they were all looking at me and waiting.
"Ok, fertig, danke."
("Ok, all finished, thanks.")
As I watched the anesthesiologist push the white fluid into my vein I managed to wish the team "Viel Glück!" ("Good luck!") before I felt the sleep come. It creeps in. It starts near my ears and then the tingling moves in towards my nose. Eddie told me he always try to fight it but I welcome it. The sooner I fall asleep the sooner I'll wake up. One step closer to being a mommy.
The next thing I remember is the sound of little footsteps running past my bed. And then again. And again. I realized I was in the recovery room and the family to my left had the bright idea to bring along their 2-3 year old for the procedure. The more awake I became the more intense the pain and cramping felt. It was worse than last time. The nurse came to check on me and Olivia told her I was in pain. She brought me a hot water bottle and pain medicine...in suppository form. In my barely coherent state, I asked her -
"Gibt es keine anderes Wartzimmer für Kinder?"
("Isn't there another waiting room for children?)
I was amazed how I could just spit out German even when I am half conscious.
"I'm wearing underwear." I mumbled to Olivia.
"What?" she asked, confused.
"I'm wearing underwear again. Usually after the procedure I don't have underwear on."
It still blows my mind that I moved from the operating table to my bed and someone dressed me without my recollection. I feel slightly embarrassed because my underwear weren't exactly the prettiest that day. (I thought they'd stay hidden under my pillow!)
The child ran another 20 times (not being over dramatic) past my bed. The father took her shoes off in hopes to make her uncoordinated footsteps quieter. I heard every step. I also heard Olivia start crunching on her sunflower seeds. These aren't exactly the sounds you expect to hear while in pain but I tried to laugh through it. Next, the doctor came around the curtain. Olivia introduced herself and I fought the urge to explain that she's not my lesbian lover either but Olivia must have read my mind because she added "Schwägerin" (sister-in-law) after her name.
Again, I am still fighting off the anesthesia but I try my best to open my eyes and ears as wide as possible. The doc tells us he procedure went "really well."
...huh?
My brain couldn't process the words. Did she say really well? As in better than good?
She continues, "We were able to get 14 eggs."
"14?" I asked.
"Yes, 14."
"14?!?"
Talk about a natural pain reliever. 14! I could have jumped out of bed and did a victory lap around the recovery room with the little girl...but then again, I better not. She continued with the usual instructions and left us again. When I rolled over, Olivia was already tapping away on her phone. I realized she was texting Ed because she kept informing me -
"Eddie says you're an egg factory."
"Eddie says he's proud of you."
"Eddie says you're his American chicken."
"Eddie says he loves you."
I was thankful she was there to update him for me. For the next few minutes, Olivia and I took turns saying the number "fourteen" back and forth.
The anesthesiologist came to check on me. She told me it had to work this time because I'm only 30. I corrected her and told her I'm not 30 yet! (I'm hanging on to these last months.) I asked the nurse if I could have something else for the pain.
"Per os, bitte!" I added.
But she brought me another suppository. Grrr...ok, whatever. Anything to lessen this pain. About a half hour later Olivia assisted me to the bathroom and we were free to go. Before we left, I heard the doctor talk to the family to my left, the one with the young "Bolt wanna-be" sprinter daughter. The doctor informed them that they got two eggs from her. I felt bad for her. I felt embarrassed for asking the nurse about another waiting room. I felt bad I had 14 and she only had 2. I told myself I couldn't dwell too much on it because I'm in energy saving mode. The only thing I can do is pray for her 2 little eggs too.
We stopped at the reception area and made another appointment for the embryo transfer for the following Monday. They also asked for an updated phone number. They said they would call me if no eggs fertilized to cancel my appointment on Monday. ::gulp!::
The weekend came and went without a phone call. We were pretty confident that out of 14 eggs that at least one would fertilize. Our main problem was the pain I was still feeling.
Yesterday was the transfer. Eddie and I both agreed that we have never been excited to go to an appointment, but on this day, we were. Eddie told me that he said his prayer last night and that made me happy again to hear. I joked and said God answers his prayers because he is so surprised to hear from him. God's ears probably perk up because he isn't used to his voice.
Once we arrived, we anxiously waited about 45 minutes to hear the news. When we were finally escorted back to the procedure room the doctors, nurses, and lab techs greeted us.
I laid down on the table and Eddie was positioned on a stool near my head. The nurses bustled around the room preparing kits and needles and machines and all kinds of scary lab equipment. Ed whispered to me that he saw 2 embryos on the computer screen through the glass window in the lab. I told him those aren't necessarily ours and not to get too excited. However, when the doc came in and I saw him holding a paper with a picture of 2 embryos on it, I knew it was true.
Of the 14 eggs taken, 11 were mature enough to be used.
Of the 11 mature eggs, 6 successfully fertilized.
Of the 6 fertilized eggs, 1 didn't develop properly and they froze 2 immediately.
Of the remaining 3 - 1 had multiplied to 7 cells and 2 had 8 cells. (Reminder: On day 3 - 8 cells is optimal.)
The 7 celler will be monitored for two more days. If it continues to develop, they'll freeze that one too.
The 2 8 cellers were put back where they belong...in me!
We have another appointment in 2 weeks to take a blood pregnancy test. Please, please, PLEASE continue to pray! I need these ones to stick! And if you've got any extra prayers in ya', maybe send another one up for the unnamed woman behind curtain number 1.
The sun wasn't up yet but I was wide awake. That day marked another egg retrieval day but Eddie couldn't come with me this time. I had been giving myself shots in the stomach for weeks and for the past two weeks I had to give myself two a day. The last shot I gave myself had to be exactly 36 hours before the retrieval. The science behind this whole process is mind boggling.
Eddie looks like a mad scientist at 0:27. Luckily, I stopped the video before he could give me another creepy smile at the end. (BTW, that's is a Kong dog toy on the foot rest...)
With this try, my doctors decided to do a "long protocol." Basically, what it means is that they want to control everything. With the first two tries I gave myself additional hormones on top of the ones my body was already making ("short protocol") but this time they wanted to try something different. First, I gave myself a shot that told my body not to produce the hormones by itself. The additional shot was the hormone in the specified dose that stimulated my ovaries. My doctors wanted my body to do nothing and the medicine to do everything. To me, that meant more money, more time, more alarms, more shots, more pricks, more bruises, more stress...but hopefully, more possibilities. I would do ANYTHING for a higher chance of becoming pregnant. I don't know if the desperation that I feel some days could ever be put into words.
Rewind -
One night, I ended up in the emergency room. I woke up after a night shift with extreme abdominal pain. I tossed and turned and cried in bed while Eddie looked on in horror. He made me a hot water bottle and gave me some pain medicine but the pain persisted. I kept thinking to myself that if child birth is worse than this, I might not make it through it. I had to work another night shift that night so I popped another pain pill and packed my hot water bottle. I told myself I would take care of the babies while leaning against the isolette, and then sit down to document everything whenever possible. When I got to work, I was shocked to see that I couldn't close my scrub pants! Only the very bottom button would button. I pulled my top down over them and went to my station for report. We were short nurses that night so I told myself I couldn't call off. I let the charge nurse know that I couldn't walk standing up straight and that I might need to sit a lot that night and she looked at me like I was crazy. She summoned the resident to assess me and she asked if I still had my appendix. "Uh...yes..." I said. Crap! I never thought of that. "It can't be appendicitis," I thought. "it will ruin our ICSI cycle!" She sent me to the emergency room where, after a few frustrating hours, low temp, and minimal left shift, the exact cause could not be determined. Two days later my doctor said it could have been a burst cyst (?). Never heard of those before but, let me tell you, they are no fun.
Fast forward -
I just got done shaving my legs (can't have hairy legs while in the stirrups) the morning of the retrieval when I got a text message. It was from Ed Frick -
"Love you, Mitz! It will be alright, no matter how it will turn out, 'cause we're the best! Good luck! I said my prayer!"
The last sentence made me so happy. Ed wasn't raised in a very religious family. When he mentions God or praying I swell with pride. I always pray for God to not give up on him and I reassure Him that Eddie will find Him on his own soon.
Olivia, my sister-in-law, arrived to drive me to my appointment. During the drive, she asked me if I was nervous. I said I was scared but not because of the anesthesia or pain but only that they wouldn't get many eggs. We also discussed more important things like our options for lunch. ;) I had to be NPO after midnight but Olivia was obviously allowed to eat something. She told me while I was in the operating room she would leave to get something to eat but I told her they won't let her leave and come back. She was bummed but then got pretty excited when she found a bag, no, sorry, THREE bags, of sunflower seeds in her purse.
Sunflower seeds are called "Samitschki" in Russian...and Russians love them some Samitschki!
We were the first ones to arrive. We were there even before the employees. I started to panic when I saw all the lights off thinking that maybe I had the wrong day and took the last shot more than 36 hrs prior...but then they showed. The nurse led us into the changing room and Olivia told me I should take locker number 3 because it was our third try. I made a mental note that there are 11 lockers...I hope I never have to use locker number 11.
Olivia and I giggled a little while they prepped me and eventually they wheeled me back into the procedure room. The nurses commented on my slippers.
"I got them in America." I told them.
"Ooooooo" they said in unison.
I smiled thinking "That gets them every time."
I did the "twisted tooth fairy routine" and put my underwear under my pillow and walked to the operating table. They handed me the phone and I identified myself to the woman in the lab staring at me through the glass window. Then they eased me back onto the table. One nurse strapped in my legs while the anesthesiologist put a blood pressure cuff on my right arm. She began strapping in my left arm but I wasn't ready.
"Entschuldigung, darf ich kurz meinen linken Arm wieder haben?"
("Excuse me, may I please have my left arm again for a second?")
They were so quick to strap in my limbs but I didn't get a chance to say my prayer yet.
"Ja, klar..." she said.
("Yes, of course..")
I folded my hands and murmured my prayer. I asked him to bless the doctors and the nurses. I asked that he keep them alert. I also asked him for many eggs and that, in his grace, I wake up again. When I opened my eyes they were all looking at me and waiting.
"Ok, fertig, danke."
("Ok, all finished, thanks.")
As I watched the anesthesiologist push the white fluid into my vein I managed to wish the team "Viel Glück!" ("Good luck!") before I felt the sleep come. It creeps in. It starts near my ears and then the tingling moves in towards my nose. Eddie told me he always try to fight it but I welcome it. The sooner I fall asleep the sooner I'll wake up. One step closer to being a mommy.
All smiles BEFORE the procedure! I don't know why I insist on getting a picture with the stork. He's been completely useless up until this point.
Me AFTER the procedure. Snoozeville. Apparently my neck quadruples in size with anesthesia?
The next thing I remember is the sound of little footsteps running past my bed. And then again. And again. I realized I was in the recovery room and the family to my left had the bright idea to bring along their 2-3 year old for the procedure. The more awake I became the more intense the pain and cramping felt. It was worse than last time. The nurse came to check on me and Olivia told her I was in pain. She brought me a hot water bottle and pain medicine...in suppository form. In my barely coherent state, I asked her -
"Gibt es keine anderes Wartzimmer für Kinder?"
("Isn't there another waiting room for children?)
I was amazed how I could just spit out German even when I am half conscious.
"I'm wearing underwear." I mumbled to Olivia.
"What?" she asked, confused.
"I'm wearing underwear again. Usually after the procedure I don't have underwear on."
It still blows my mind that I moved from the operating table to my bed and someone dressed me without my recollection. I feel slightly embarrassed because my underwear weren't exactly the prettiest that day. (I thought they'd stay hidden under my pillow!)
The child ran another 20 times (not being over dramatic) past my bed. The father took her shoes off in hopes to make her uncoordinated footsteps quieter. I heard every step. I also heard Olivia start crunching on her sunflower seeds. These aren't exactly the sounds you expect to hear while in pain but I tried to laugh through it. Next, the doctor came around the curtain. Olivia introduced herself and I fought the urge to explain that she's not my lesbian lover either but Olivia must have read my mind because she added "Schwägerin" (sister-in-law) after her name.
Again, I am still fighting off the anesthesia but I try my best to open my eyes and ears as wide as possible. The doc tells us he procedure went "really well."
...huh?
My brain couldn't process the words. Did she say really well? As in better than good?
She continues, "We were able to get 14 eggs."
"14?" I asked.
"Yes, 14."
"14?!?"
Talk about a natural pain reliever. 14! I could have jumped out of bed and did a victory lap around the recovery room with the little girl...but then again, I better not. She continued with the usual instructions and left us again. When I rolled over, Olivia was already tapping away on her phone. I realized she was texting Ed because she kept informing me -
"Eddie says you're an egg factory."
"Eddie says he's proud of you."
"Eddie says you're his American chicken."
"Eddie says he loves you."
I was thankful she was there to update him for me. For the next few minutes, Olivia and I took turns saying the number "fourteen" back and forth.
The anesthesiologist came to check on me. She told me it had to work this time because I'm only 30. I corrected her and told her I'm not 30 yet! (I'm hanging on to these last months.) I asked the nurse if I could have something else for the pain.
"Per os, bitte!" I added.
But she brought me another suppository. Grrr...ok, whatever. Anything to lessen this pain. About a half hour later Olivia assisted me to the bathroom and we were free to go. Before we left, I heard the doctor talk to the family to my left, the one with the young "Bolt wanna-be" sprinter daughter. The doctor informed them that they got two eggs from her. I felt bad for her. I felt embarrassed for asking the nurse about another waiting room. I felt bad I had 14 and she only had 2. I told myself I couldn't dwell too much on it because I'm in energy saving mode. The only thing I can do is pray for her 2 little eggs too.
We stopped at the reception area and made another appointment for the embryo transfer for the following Monday. They also asked for an updated phone number. They said they would call me if no eggs fertilized to cancel my appointment on Monday. ::gulp!::
The weekend came and went without a phone call. We were pretty confident that out of 14 eggs that at least one would fertilize. Our main problem was the pain I was still feeling.
Yesterday was the transfer. Eddie and I both agreed that we have never been excited to go to an appointment, but on this day, we were. Eddie told me that he said his prayer last night and that made me happy again to hear. I joked and said God answers his prayers because he is so surprised to hear from him. God's ears probably perk up because he isn't used to his voice.
Once we arrived, we anxiously waited about 45 minutes to hear the news. When we were finally escorted back to the procedure room the doctors, nurses, and lab techs greeted us.
Couldn't get a pic of his complete outfit with booties and gown but that will do. Someone should tell Ed Frick that no guns are allowed in the procedure room! ;)
I laid down on the table and Eddie was positioned on a stool near my head. The nurses bustled around the room preparing kits and needles and machines and all kinds of scary lab equipment. Ed whispered to me that he saw 2 embryos on the computer screen through the glass window in the lab. I told him those aren't necessarily ours and not to get too excited. However, when the doc came in and I saw him holding a paper with a picture of 2 embryos on it, I knew it was true.
Of the 14 eggs taken, 11 were mature enough to be used.
Of the 11 mature eggs, 6 successfully fertilized.
Of the 6 fertilized eggs, 1 didn't develop properly and they froze 2 immediately.
Of the remaining 3 - 1 had multiplied to 7 cells and 2 had 8 cells. (Reminder: On day 3 - 8 cells is optimal.)
The 7 celler will be monitored for two more days. If it continues to develop, they'll freeze that one too.
The 2 8 cellers were put back where they belong...in me!
A visual breakdown of the results. (Those are pink numbers inside the embryos. I hope you enjoy the arrow with the 2 8 cellers in case you weren't sure which direction those two went.)
We have another appointment in 2 weeks to take a blood pregnancy test. Please, please, PLEASE continue to pray! I need these ones to stick! And if you've got any extra prayers in ya', maybe send another one up for the unnamed woman behind curtain number 1.
We're hoping the ol' saying "third time's a charm" holds true! Thank you all for the support!
Our possible future children. Aren't they beautiful? :)
Germany vs. America
Germany vs. America
261. Bowling is really expensive in Germany. Oh heck, everything is!
262. There is a church tax that you pay when you sign up in the city. You state your religion and the money is taken directly from your paycheck. If you no longer want to pay the taxes you can unsubscribe but then you are not allowed to marry or be baptized in the church. ... (not cool.)
263. I hate the way my name is pronounced in German. It’s throaty like “Rahhhel.” They say Frick like "Freak." I refuse to pronounce either one of my names like that.
264. In Germany, motorcyclists have to wear helmets. Makes perfect sense to me! I think the rule in the US is after you've been riding for 2 years, you don’t have to wear one anymore.
265. Germany makes:
Audi
BMW (Pronounced: Bee Emm Fow)
Volkswagon (FolksVagon)
Mercedes-Benz (+ Smarts)
Porsche (They pronounce the “e” on the end)
Wiesmann (google it)
266. Gift in German means "poison." So if someone tells you they want to give you a "Gift" in Germany...do not accept it. ;)
267. Germany have to test the amount of pollutants in their car exhaust. There are areas called "Green Zones" where only certain qualified cars are permitted to drive.
268. All German restaurants have to post their menus, including the price of each dish near the entrance.
269. "What's the time difference between here and Germany?"
"6 hours."
"Oh...::pause::...ahead or behind?"
"...ahead."
I can't help but think - "Do you not know which way the earth rotates?"
270. Some cars have an alarm that you can set for your speed. It will alarm when you go above the set limit. Maybe we have that in the States too but I’ve never heard of anyone using it. Two words: cruise control.
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