I was watching the clock, waiting for the seconds to tick by so I could call embryology this morning. I was instructed to call at 8:30am for a report and instructions, so naturally my plan was to dial in at precisely 8:27am.
I did not get that chance. At 8:20am, my phone rang and the caller ID said it was my clinic..... Ok... Maybe the lab is calling me instead? I picked it up and the voice on the other line was my doctor..... My head flashed back to a few months ago when Dr. J told me that if I get a call from him after ER, I should sit down because it is not good news.
The tone in his voice as he said hello said it all. I couldn't keep my voice from sounding instantly strained as I squeaked out one word: "Hi."
He delivered the news quickly and honestly, like tearing off a bandaid. He told me that none of our embryos had grown past two cells, and that there was nothing to transfer.
The tears instantly started flowing as I processed his words. He instructed me to stop all my medications, in a few days I would get a period, the doctor and embryology team would have their meeting to discuss my case tonight, and that I could come in to discuss this further anytime after today.
I controlled my sobbing long enough to ask him what happened... Begged him to tell me exactly what happened to my five embryos. He went through it with me... 14 eggs retrieved, 9 mature, 5 fertilized, 2 made it to the cleavage stage and stopped growing, 3 didn't even get that far.
How is this possible? What is the cause of this? Through my tears I asked him these impossible questions. The doctor said that he suspected egg quality, though he wanted to take the time to talk to the embryologist before coming to that conclusion.
We said goodbye. Commence the ugliest cry imaginable. I called John. He was teaching Symphonic Band, but he picked up. He couldn't understand a word I said for at least the first three minutes because I was bawling, gasping, sobbing. Finally I managed to tell him that our embryos were dead and that we were not doing a transfer. Which lead to more sobbing, gasping, hyperventilating. My dogs were gathered around me wondering what was going on... Coda barking, Mocha trying to lick my face.
What do you do after your heart is broken? Again?