Yep, sometimes that pessimistic outlook pays off. So surgery was done and eggs were retrived. I woke up to a four written on my hand, not bad, not good, but not bad. Four little eggs as the output from all of those drugs and having my inards hoovered. So back home with paracetamol and pampering from the other half. And then the phonecall from the embryologist the following day to say that three out of the four had fertilised, an amaxing 75% rate!
So five days later, back in the stirrups with my feet about three feet above my head and all eyes glued on the monitor, and then back home. For the next ten days I walked around like I was made of spun glass, being so, so careful. Then the cramps started, and it was obvious it had never worked.
In an odd way I was relived that this one was out of the way. After IVF working first time, and then getting pregnant naturally after the accident I knew that there would be no luck for us on this cycle. Now this one was done I can look forward to the next one, the one where I think we have a real chance, and of course I know that just by thinking that if the next cycle doesn't work it is going to be so much more devistating.
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