I put a dramatic flare to this otherwise boring blog post title by capitalizing the words and adding “The.”
We had initially retrieved 5 eggs. Well, back up. The last ultrasound showed 5 mature follicles, all gigantic and rotund. Fast forward. We retrieve 5 eggs. Logic shows this would equal the 5 mature follicles we saw on the US. With me so far?
One was mature. One.
That one is growing. They want to see embryos between 2 and 4 cells, and this little one is 3 cells. So it’s growing and we are scheduled for a 3-day transfer tomorrow morning at 10:45am.
Many of you following this journey know I have shitty results. My body seems to do everything in its power to Fuck. Risa. Over. Every time.
But Adam was The One left. And he implanted. And it only takes one, right?
At this point, one is more than I could ever hope for. I’m happy. I’m remaining cautious because I know from experience that it ain’t over til the fat lady sings. (The fat lady being my embryo and singing being the 7-8 celled embryo that it should be by tomorrow morning.) I know from experience that embryos can stop growing. So I am holding off celebrating until Little One is snug inside me.
But that can’t mean you can’t all join me in a tribal baby dance.