Well, readers, I’m in a little bit of unchartered territory now. Since I’ve done three egg retrievals, those were starting to feel old hat (albeit an unpleasant old hat).
Yesterday, I had three uterine procedures that begin the next phase of IVF. The let’s-actually-try-and-get-you-pregnant-now phase.
I mentioned the procedures in last week’s blog, but here’s a recap of what I had done:
- Trial embryo transfer
- Doppler ultrasound
- Hysteroscopy
For the first one, I had to drink 32 oz. of water in a 15-minute window, one hour prior to the appointment. Nick likes to tease me that I have the world’s smallest bladder because he thinks I constantly have to go. (He’s probably not entirely wrong…)
Apparently I’ve really started to believe him, too. When I arrived at the appointment, they asked: How does the bladder feel? I told them it didn’t really feel all that full, and they gave me two more glasses of water that I quickly downed.
In recent memory, I’ve had a few times where my bladder was so full, it got to the “it’s painful to walk” point. That’s what I was imagining I should be feeling.
During our vacation, my sister had mentioned how unpleasant the transfers can be. “Your bladder is full, they’re pushing on you with the ultrasound machine, and you’ve got a speculum in. And then you have to wait after the transfer for 15 minutes before you can get up and go to the bathroom,” she said. “Five stars; would recommend,” she added sarcastically.
I was having horrible visions of me not being able to hold it while the trial procedure was going on. To provide a bit of context, I do have a past experience that made this fear not entirely unfounded.
As a small child, I would often get UTIs or have issues urinating. I genuinely don’t know why, but as many children’s medical issues often do, it eventually resolved itself and was never serious.
During one such episode, it got so bad, I had to go see the pediatrician, and he had to insert a catheter. I ended up peeing all over him and the exam room table. Which led to a lot of tears (on my side) and my very kind doctor joking it was his fault, and he really should’ve known that would happen. (Dr. Sorrells was literally the best.) But I digress…
After I downed the two glasses of water, the ultrasound tech asked me to come back, and she’d check to see if my bladder was full. Turns out, it was. (And it wasn’t even at the painful point.)
All in all, the procedure was pretty easy. Even with the speculum and pressure from the ultrasound machine, I didn’t have any trouble or unpleasantness (that part would come later). And no one got peed on. Hooray!
The nurse also confirmed this is essentially what it’d be like when we do an actual transfer, except they’ll give me a Valium.
Next up was the doppler ultrasound. I genuinely don’t know what the point of this procedure is, but it’s essentially the same as all the transvaginal ultrasounds I’ve had up until this point. Except they weren’t counting follicles, and it does somehow measure blood flow. Which is why I had to abstain from caffeine for 72 hours prior to the procedure.
Thank goodness I’m not a coffee drinker. I had one day with a minor caffeine headache and then the rest of the time I was fine.
And finally, the hysterscopy. This is where the unpleasantness started.
Em had mentioned it wasn’t a fun procedure, but she had also had the benefit of some pain/loopy meds that made her not care. I wish my clinic did that, but it’s probably for the best they didn’t. Nick had planned to come with me, but he contracted covid on our family vacation (more on all that next week) and wasn’t feeling up to accompanying me. It’s better I was able to drive myself to the appointment.
The hysteroscopy is a procedure where they send a camera and water up your lady bits and take photos. They want to make sure there are no polyps, cysts, or tumors in there.
On the negative side, they have to dilate your cervix (and for those who don’t have a cervix, this really doesn’t feel good). For those who do have a cervix but haven’t had this done, it felt similar to severe period cramps. Again, for those sans cervix and uterus, (not to be gross, but) the best way to describe period cramps is a painful ache in your lower abdomen that makes you constantly feel like you have to go… (to the bathroom, that is).
So fellas, that’s what your wives, mothers, daughters, nieces, lady friends, girlfriends, etc. go through (or have gone through or will go through) every month, for about 25-30+ years of their lives. Be nice to them; go buy them some chocolate or flowers and maybe don’t vocalize your complaints about PMS…
After the dilation part was over, it was time to put in the camera. This felt much the same as the dilation. More ouch.
Throughout the procedure, the nurse was telling me what she was doing and when to expect the unpleasantness. At this next step, she said, “This is where it peaks.”
She flushed all the water up there, and folks, she. was. not. wrong. The pain and unpleasantness definitely peaked. Mega ouch. I’m pretty sure I came off the table a bit. Thank goodness it was brief.
After that, the camera, water, and speculum came out, and I mostly felt back to normal.
I’m glad it’s over, and I’m glad all the results were good or normal.
And on the plus side? I got to see the pics of the inside of my uterus. How many ladies can say that?
IVF That 