Egg collection

We got to the hospital half a hour early this morning. They welcomed us nicely and asked us to wait in the hall. After a couple of minutes a guy came to take us to a small office, so that we could pay for the procedure. There it was £3000 gone, and it wasn’t even 8 o’clock! Anyway, the Lister Hospital is in Chelsea Bridge Road, overlooks the Thames and Chelsea Bridge, and it’s a very nice building: I had never been there before, I was treated in a satellite clinic until now, where I also paid for scans and medications, so it was a pleasant surprise.

Another guy took us to the room, and there it was another surprise, since they’ve always said it would be shared with another patient, while it was a single room. So I had my TV, bathroom, Wi-Fi and river view from the window!

The operation would be after a few hours, so we tried to watch a movie… I couldn’t really concentrate on anything, but it was a way to let the time pass. At 10.30 my husband was called to produce his sample and I remained in the room, and started to freak out a bit… I knew it was almost time for me too and I started feeling very anxious… luckily, he came back a few minutes before they came to pick me up.

The general anesthetic was my biggest fear, and the doctor trying to make me relax made it slightly worse… he was asking me about my home town and how he would like to visit it, but he’s got so many things he wants to do… I replied: “Me too”, and fell asleep.

When I opened my eyes again I was in another room, two other patients were in their beds and two or three people were discussing the lunch menu in front of a computer on a desk.

A nurse told me:”Hello there”, and I asked:”Is it done?”.

She said:”Yes, we got ten!”

“Can I have water now?”I asked again.

“As soon as you get to your room” she replied.

I started crying quietly… I think I slept again for a few minutes, when I woke up it was 12.30 and I was ready to go back to my room. I was feeling well, a slight discomfort but no pain; I was only thirsty and a bit hungry.

In the room, I found my husband, a few missed calls from my sister, and a voicemail message I didn’t want to listen to, in case it was from work.

We had lunch and I slept a bit. A phone call from the embryologist brought us the news that the sperm sample was below the minimum requirements for IVF, but there were 7 fully mature eggs and 3 slightly less mature. We had to authorize to go for ICSI, and they said they’ll try to use all 10 eggs. Tomorrow morning we will know how many fertilized. So there is goes the last hope to have a somewhat natural process. According to the doctors, the probability of success is the same of IVF, only the selection is done by the embryologist rather than nature. Add £1500 to the bill, and go home.

They recommend to take a taxi home, but the hospital room had been a bit too warm and I needed some fresh air, so I convinced my husband to walk to Battersea Park and take the train home. We used to live near there when I was a student, in a shared house, and these places remind us a lot of our first dates. It was nice to be back and be together.

I got home tired but OK, and finally gave in and relaxed on my sofa, eating chocolate and bread. We’re in God’s hands, more than ever.

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