Diary of an Egg Farmer

The perils of egg farming is that you drop and break some. And that's what may happen in my case. I have to admit that I pressured my doctor to put me on high doses of follicle stimulating meds in hopes of getting more eggs this time to mature. She did, and instead of getting more mature eggs, we got less eggs overall, some overcooked, and some raw. Sorry about that. Too tired for better imagery. Maybe the same result would have occured had I been on a different protocol, but here is the measurement of all the follicles (egg is inside each follicle) that they are tracking. These are in millimeters. They grow 2 millimeters per day, and I get an ovulation trigger shot when they are 20mm, and retrieval is at 22 mm, 36 hours later, before I actually ovulate. That's the point - egg retrieval, not egg hunt. Here are my follies, from largest to smallest

18.5, 18, 17.5, 16, 14.5, 13, 11, 10, 8

They have to be at least 15 mm by retrieval to get a decently mature egg. So if they grow 2 mm per day and my retrieval is on Monday morning, TWO days early, the line up is:

22.5, 22, 21.5, 21, 18.5, 17, 14, 12. So it looks like 5 eggs, maybe 6, as the first and last would be unusable. Dropped and broken.

We came to Denver to get a baby (or two), not neccessarily more eggs than in Calgary (8 there) . But one usually goes with the other. So this reality, along with having to dish out $500 to have Stef fly out here sooner, my friend from California coming on the day of the retrival for 'the visit of the century' and me feeling like superb shit, I had a little cry today. But talked to hubby and my friend E, who set me straight. All is better.

Thanks for all your advice on where to go and what to see and where to eat everyone! I have loved Denver so far. Went to the 16th street Walking Mall today but it's funny how something is fun for only so long when you're by yourself and not feeling well. I truly wish I felt up to leaving the hotel to get a milkshake. I've been thinking about it all day. I haven't been waking up at 5am since I got here and between the cumulative sleep deprivation, hormone overload and stomach ulcer, I can only dream of a milkshake.

Thank you for reading this and for listening. It's good company knowing you're on the other side as I sit in an abandoned hotel lobby because my bed was starting to feel like an iron. It's friday night....I would usually have just put the birds to bed and my hubby would be calling from our TV room what's taking me so long to join him. Don't remember what's on TV on friday nights, but I do know he'd be on the other couch. Just within arms reach. Instead of wresling for the remote, chatting during commercials or hearing him eat his favorite snack - a shiny Granny Smith apple that I always buy for him, I'm sitting alone in a quiet hotel, counting my eggs before they hatch. Silly, silly girl.