I suppose it's for the best, since leftovers tend to sit in our fridge until they're unrecognizable. But still.
No leftover frozen embryos on a stick for us. It's the three they transferred or nothin'. According to the clinic, one of the three stragglers actually made it to blastocyst stage, but it was a sort of crumbly Grade 3 and, well, not worth freezing.
That news scared me. If none of these embryos I'm carrying sticks, it's back to square one. And of course I had to wonder if the three beautiful blastocysts we put in there yesterday have already met their demise. The thought of it made me nearly choke with fear.
And then I remembered that, as a good friend of mine constantly reminds me, I have this horrible tendency to go automatically to the Bad Scary Place Where Nothing Good Ever Happens, and that's just not rational. The fact that three of our embryos didn't make it to the freezer pales in comparison to all of the unexpected good news we've had this cycle. Plus, from what I've read, most people who do Day 5 transfers lose at least half of their embryos before Day 5. We lost none before Day 5. And the ones that made it in were all top grade.
As the same dear friend put it the other day, my job for the next two weeks is to be hopeful. I've got to keep focused on that. It helps that I've got a whole host of symptoms: I'm cranky, fatigued, sore-boobed, and alternately a little queasy and STARVING (after all, I'm eating for four!). Those symptoms could all be attributable to the progesterone and the HcG trigger shot, or they could mean something else. I don't know. But for now, I'm just going to hunker down and hope my little ass off.