The Spiritual Cerologist

My Doctor thought that another 6 months of suppression meds to help my inhospitable uterus, would help before he would consider our first transfer. Ok fine, so in the meantime I became obsessed with losing weight. Since most of the doctors I had seen previously always said that my irregular cycles were caused from being too fat! Um excuse me!? FAT! I never in my life thought of myself as fat but the doctors and apparently their scales don’t lie. So cool, keto it was. I even ordered from a meal service to keep me on track. I was determined and fucking ready! The meals were shit but I did feel amazing. I’ll tell you when you are, what’s the word my doctor used, “riddled” with endometriosis, not getting your period is just about the best thing in the world. I probably dropped the retrieval hormone weight and hubs and I continued keeping on. October rolled around and we were ready to implant that bad Larry embryo into my uterus!

For those of you that dont know how this transfer process works, let me rewind a bit. They start you on PIO (progesterone) shots, if that the protocol your doctor chooses for you. They suck and hurt and it’s just not a good time. Also you need to be on estrogen patches, which in my opinion were the absolute worst. They made me crazy and bloat so badly that I already looked 6months pregnant. At one point you have like 6 of those damn things on at once and cant get rid of the sticky goo off your skin to save your life. I scrubbed my stomach red raw at one point, but thats neither here nor there. Any ways, you meet with the embryologist first and meet the little nuggets that they think will have the best fighting chance. I was met with two little 4AA’s, which is a grading system they use for the embryos quality. They looked promising but what the fuck did I know, I introduced myself and kept it moving. They also want your bladder full for the procedure and they don’t use any lube! Yes you read that correctly, NO LUBE! The whole thing is basically a mid evil torture technique.

I placed my legs into the stir ups and prayed to God, for many reasons, top was please let’s not have this be as painful as I imagine it will be. He didn’t listen because SHIT! That is not pleasant but it’s all for the greater good. Let me tell you all something, women are fucking incredible beings. Period. The end.

In the days following, you are technically pregnant and have to act as such. No strenuous exercise, heavy lifting or heavy drinking. Kidding, on the drinking part anyways. I can’t remember how long you have to wait for your beta test , or blood work testing the hcg hormone, but I think it was around two weeks. So I lazed around had a birthday dinner at one of my favorite restaurants that make the most magical martini, that I didn’t get to enjoy. My husband took me on a staycation at an amazing resort on Palm Beach and booked me a massage at the spa that apparently I couldn’t get because I could be pregnant but wasn’t actually sure. It was a werid two weeks. My test showed a small hcg number but it was still a positive so I was to go back in a few days to test again. They hope for the number to double and keep that momentum, however mine did not. The doctor called me as I was waiting in the Starbucks line and informed me I had a chemical pregnancy.

I was devastated obviously, and with 6 embryos left on ice I really toiled with the idea of putting myself through that again. We decided to take the holidays and figure it out.