I woke up the morning of the transfer feeling more susperstitious than usual. Our gestational carrier had gotten a pedicure the day before and was sporting “fertility green” toenails. I threw on a fertility green hoodie and a butterfly necklace, just in case the recent butterfly sightings had meaning.
Our GC had been instructed to have a full bladder for the appointment, so she sipped tea and water the whole drive there. My husband did the driving and it was nice to sit back and relax. Under my green hoodie I was wearing a shirt with a picture of Quoddy, because what kind of dog mom would I be if she wasn’t a small part in building the family.
We had barely sat down in the waiting room, 15 minutes before we were instructed to arrive, and they were calling us back. We were quickly given gowns, bonnets, and shoe covers, and I even had a mask to wear in the procedure room. The nurse presented GC with a valium and soon after she swallowed it, we were shown to the direction of the procedure room.
‘Doesn’t the valium take time to work?’ I thought.
Inside the procedure room our “extra-extravert” GC was learning the names of all the medical professionals while I sat down and tried to take in all the different machines and gadgets. There was a TV on the wall and a monitor next to the bed which I figured we would be watching.
In unison GC and I identified the Alanis Morissette song, ‘You Oughta Know,’ playing overhead.
“And would she have your baby…”
We started cracking up. She said something about it being an angry song.
“Do you want me to change it?” one of the ladies in the room asked.
“No,” I told them.
It was perfect. A feminist rock album that my 10-11 year old self used to listen to on repeat.
“Do you know what you’re having?” a lady who looked like a doctor in training asked me.
I was thrown off by this question. So many thoughts flashed through my mind.
- No one is pregnant yet…
- This is not a 100% chance we will have a baby from this cycle…
- Doesn’t she know the hurdles we still have before she can rightfully ask us this question….
- Is that really an important question to ask right now…
I answered her in two words before I saw my last name on the TV screen on the far wall. We watched as the completely hatched embryo was sucked up from the petri dish. In a matter of seconds we were then watching the monitor that showed the ultrasound image as Dr. F put the embryo right on the uterine lining. I had tears in my eyes watching him do this. It was surreal that we had finally gotten to this step. This embryo was the only viable embryo from my first retrieval in April 2016.
I was handed pictures of the embryo and GC was given permission to use the restroom before heading back to the bed for a 30 minute rest on her back. So many differences between clinics. After my embryo transfer they did not have me lay down afterward.
There was another intended parent-surrogate team that had an appointment right after us. It made me want to know their story, but of course I didn’t ask.
Our gestational carrier was instructed to be on bed rest the rest of the day and the following day, another change from the previous clinic.
We left the procedure building feeling cautiously optimistic that we wouldn’t have to return.
I sat on the couch at home to watch a movie under my prayer blanket that my aunt had given me. It came from her church and was prayed over for my infertility. I realized the pattern and felt my heart beat faster.
Butterflies! With a rainbow for our rainbow baby.
Maybe all those butterflies were trying to tell me something.
And now we wait.