Everybody’s doing it
What better time than Easter to go on a little internal egg hunt ;).
As you start to get into researching egg freezing, you realize that everybody`s doing it, and more and more people are talking about it. Likely based on the fact that it now has an extensive list of celebrity endorsements. It’s gone mainstream!
I went back for my second cycle a couple of weeks ago. Thankfully it went a bit better this time. Not amazingly…I didn’t get enough eggs for me to feel secure. But I got some and I’m overwhelmed by the intensity of the experience. I also feel like a bit of a superhero going through this alone (of course with a lot of support from my mom). Especially when giving myself a needle. I just feel so bad-ass, competent and strong. This feeling was a good antidote to the hormones that made me feel really weepy and sad the rest of the time.
So, similar to before, every other day for about two weeks I would visit the clinic and do all the tests to see how things were growing. After my first “failed” attempt, my doc changed up the medications slightly. After a certain number of days it was time to start taking a second shot in my abdomen (the first set are in your butt) to stop my body from ovulating until the eggs were fully cooked. The rest was a bit of a crap shoot. There’s a sweet spot for grabbing the eggs. You want the majority of eggs to not be too small (immature) or not be too big (overdeveloped). Basically they’ve gotta be just right (like Goldilocks’ porridge). The trigger shot for ovulation is prescribed at the point where the majority of eggs fall within that range.
A side note that the ultrasounds aren’t really showing eggs but follicles that are growing. The assumption is that a follicle will only grow if a “good” quality egg is developing. Because why would your body develop anything that’s no good, right?
Day 11-ish is when I was set to get my last injection and give myself the famed and perfectly timed trigger shot (usually at around 12:30 A.M. the day before your procedure). The night before, there’s nothing left to do except chill, go to sleep and hope for the best.
The procedure
This is the part that feels a bit like magic. You arrive about an hour before the procedure and everything works like clockwork. They have this baby down to an art. The nurse talks you through the procedure and gets you set up with your IV. In the trend of not telling me the whole story until the last possible moment, the she tells me that, out of the eggs they manage to take out (which will already be pretty low for me), some might not survive the freezing process. I mean I knew that once thawed there was a chance that a number wouldn’t make it, but I thought that was a problem for a different day. Apparently not. This new stressor was almost too much to bear.
The procedure itself was pretty friggin cool. The main event takes no more than 5-10 minutes. You get a dose of local anesthetic, which just feels like someone dumped a litre of red wine directly into your bloodstream. So pretty fantastic. Then the doc comes in and, according to the brochures, inserts an ultrasound probe which is connected to an aspirator. She then uses it to enter each follicle, vacuuming out the little suckers. They got 6. Not the best starting number but I had taken a chance.
You can watch it all take place on a screen next to you. “There’s one,” you hear the nurses say, “there’s another.” They speak with excitement. You get wrapped up in hazy state of excitement as well. They pass the eggs directly through a window to nurses that are waiting on the other side. When it’s all said and done, you’re good to go in under an hour (once you’ve paid any outstanding bills $$$).
After the procedure I went for lunch with my mom and immediately felt inconsolably sad. The weight of it all crushed me. You’re told that the clinic will call when they get the final frozen count. Until then, there’s really nothing you can do except for eat, and cry a little, and snap at your Mom a bit because you’re pissed at life and the whole thing. Oh and men. You’re definitely pissed at all the men you see for not having to go through this themselves.
About 2 hours later I saw that a voicemail had come through. Retrieving my message I heard the excited voice of the nurse, letting me know that she was so happy that all 6 of my eggs froze without incident. This is nothing short of a miracle in my current world. I went home somewhat relieved, with the plan to re-evaluate and decide if I was going to do it a second time.
A friendly ear
Afterwards I decided that I needed to go back and visit my social worker to figure out my next step. We talked about the money, the body stress and the idea of doing it all again. She really drove home the fact that what I’d already spent was a sunk cost and there was no point in talking about it any further. We also talked about getting to the point where I felt like I had done everything within my power to secure my fertility for the time being, short of getting pregnant. One more cycle and getting my numbers up closer to the magic 16 (the number that my doctor told me was a good number to ensure a live birth) would put me in a position where I’d be able to say that. All told, the conversation led me to believe that I should give it one more go, and worry about the money later.
As I write this I’ve actually just started another cycle. The numbers are strangely much higher (they generally are on a constant decline as you age). So fingers crossed I will get a high number. I had actually missed the early mornings and familiar routines and faces. Some bits aren’t bad. I’m hoping I can get closer to this 16. Not fool proof, but a more extensive insurance plan!
What are your experiences with the egg freezing process? Please share in the comments. I’d love to hear about it!
Dating on a Deadline 
You must be logged in to post a comment.