Month: June 2017

Today is 7dp5dt. If you wonder what that language is, it is the abbreviation used in the IVF community. It meant 7 Days Post (5-day blastocyst )Transfer. It’s like Morse code. It took me a while to catch up with what the ladies were saying in the support groups.

I was planning to do a home pregnancy test today but my acupuncturist asked me not to. It is because the hormone shot that I took before my embryo transfer might alter the test result. She is right. It has been a week since the transfer and I have already gone through a panic attack and daily anxiety drill. With the side effects from both steroid and progesterone, no one would want to see me going through another emotional roller coaster ride(s).

So I will patiently wait till my blood test on Friday to detect HCG, the pregnancy hormone test at doctor’s office. I am good at self-controlling.

Meantime, I have to battle with the miscellaneous side effects from my hormone pills – constipation, mood swing, edema, weight gain, greasy hair, bloating, cramping and spotting.

The most bizarre thing is that all these side effects are similar to the early pregnancy signs. So you have no way to tell whether you are truly ‘pregnant’ or you are just being played by the artificial hormone swimming in your blood stream.

“Is this the type of pink for implantation bleeding?”

“Is this cramping different than the one I had earlier?”

“Why I sweat so much?”

“Why my foot are so cold even with the socks on?”

“I don’t want to eat this. Am I pregnant?”

“I got no pants to wear. I look like an elephant!”

“Why am I not feeling nausea?”

“I am so bloated. It looks like I am wearing an air bag!”

And every time when I can combat an anxiety attack and/or having a regular bowl movement (sorry for TMI but this is real), that’s my moment to celebrate my victory.

So miscellaneous. Yet, it took so much efforts to fight each and everyone of them.

It was so real. I had my panic attack today, 3 days after my embryo transfer.

I felt like I have blew my transfer, my IVF. I felt defeated. I was sitting in the restaurant trying to have lunch and all the sudden, I felt racing heat. I felt like I don’t belong to this place and I can’t access to anyone. I am all alone. The stress that I am bearing isn’t fair. What I am going through isn’t putting myself first. I feel very uncomfortable. I feel unease. I don’t know what to do.

I tried to finish my lunch as fast as I could. Then I left the place and went across the street to a Starbucks. The sun was shinning upon me and I was walking up to the door. I remember I almost fainted as I was trying to pull the door.

As I sat in Starbucks, I felt helpless. I was trying to distract myself by ear dropping what other people were talking. I was trying to check my Facebook for news. I was trying to think of what can I do to get myself out of the panic attack. Then, I felt so exhausted. I felt so helpless.

I wanted to call somebody and tell them “I am having a panic attack!”. But I know no one can save me at that min.

This is how depression and panic attack feel like. I feel even more guilty as I am bearing a responsibility, a task to allow this embryo to grow in my womb. Yet, I might have just blew it.

I am torn. I am mentally exhausted. I just want to find a place to rest and be mindless. Just me and no one else.

Just me.

PUPO – this is a term often used by the IVF community, which means “Pregnant until proven otherwise”.

Guess what, I am officially ‘PUPO’.  Two days ago, our doctor has put this beautifully hatched embryo into my womb. Its identity number is 7, meaning the 7th embryo created from the egg retrieval and fertilization in April. Along with its 6 ‘siblings’, it had been quietly sitting in the freezer before the doctor decided the transfer day.

From the day of the embryo transfer, the two-week wait has officially began. I have been warned that the wait is excruciating. There are only 2 things running in my mind – A. the embryo sticks or B. it doesn’t.

For those who have never gone through the infertility journey, it is often easy to say “don’t stress out! Relax. It will be fine!” I understand the intention is right and that message is full of kindness and care. Yet, it is easier said than done. If we could all relax and not to care a damn thing, no one would be here fighting infertility.

I have been to the joy of being pregnant. I have also been to the heartbreak of losing our child. To combat this two-week waiting, I believe my life experience has prepared me well. Regardless of what is happening (inside my womb), I believe that, somehow, the outcome is already there. Our destiny has already been set. What I really need to treasure and focus is that in this moment,  I am absolutely sure that this embryo has been with us. We are(were) at least together for sometime. And I get to know all about it before it formed into sharp.

Mama loves you. Hope you alright.