There are so many things going on in my head right now it’s hard to focus.
First of all, I spoke to Dr Landay about what Quincy’s Chromosome 9 Inversion means for us. She said that yes, it could explain our infertility and RPL, but to not focus on it. She says it’s clinically insignificant, meaning there’s nothing additional we can add to our plan that would alter our ER or FET.
The only other thing she would suggest is PGD – Preimplantation Genetic Diagnosis – which is the genetic testing we’ve already decided on. The genetic testing will take all the successfully fertilized, 5-day blastocysts and test them for chromosomal disorders (like, um…an inverted one, perhaps..). They can weed out all the little blasts that aren’t viable and only freeze/implant the ones they know will thrive. Since we’re already planning on doing this, our plan doesn’t change.
Which I guess is good and bad. We went into this thinking we had a 78% success rate, but that was before we knew that a lot of our blasts won’t be viable. So our success rate has dropped significantly. However, there’s still a chance that it won’t affect anything.
Now, moving on to the Day 5 Follicle Count. I’ve been on 225 IU Gonal-F and 75cc Menopur for 5 days. I had a blood test Monday and my estrogen level was 231, which is pretty much ideal. She wanted it between 100-300, and so I’m right where I need to be, hormone-level wise.
During the ultrasound, we saw 11 follies, total – only three of which were on my crappy right ovary. Right now, of those eleven, four of them are over 9mm – two on the right and two on the left. Those four, at least, should definitely hit the crucial 14mm mark.
The remaining follies are tiny, ranging between 3-7mm. A few of those *may* mature, but the smallest ones definitely won’t.
I’ll most likely end up between 5-7 mature follies to retrieve, unless some major changes happen over the next few days.
This isn’t ideal. It’s got me terrified. I’m no math major, but I do know that at 34 years old, only about half of my follicles will be viable. So, that’s 3.5. Let’s say 3.
Added to that, we now have the additional chromosome abnormalities to contend with. So, a third of those successfully fertilized eggs may actually thrive.
A third of three is…one. One embryo.
I told Quincy last night I was in a good place, that if this IVF didn’t work, at least we would have tried. But today, I’m looking at my Pinterest boards of gender-reveal party ideas and baby shower themes and baby name suggestions, and the realization that this may never happen is really sinking in. I may never get to be pregnant, and feel a baby kick and breastfeed.
It’s a lot to take in.
My Stork Got Lost 