Not many eggs left

It’s been a few weeks now since our first failed ICSI cycle. Still feeling a bit raw and a bit numb. There is a bitter taste in my mouth – that familiar taste of failure. It’s a distinct flavour that makes me feel ill 24/7 and I can’t wait for the taste to disappear. Maybe another bottle of wine will help?

Not only am I feeling raw and numb but also very upset. Part of my important support network has disappeared. Why? Too hard to explain. But I’ll do my best.

EPU is a very personal and private day. My husband was the only person I wanted to see on the day. He’s my best friend, the best support person and he also has the important job of providing sperm to the scientist! I also knew that Id be feeling a bit zombie like after the operation and would no doubt sleep most of the day away.

Now, a VIP in my life was hurt by my decision to not include them in my EPU day. This VIP chose to tell me about their feelings of rejection the day after my EPU, moments before my Dr called me with the devastating news of our fertilization results. Needless to say, this VIP chose THE worse moment to open up to me. I’m sure I was aggressive and witch like during our phone conversation and to be honest I don’t remember what I said. But I was hurt by the lack of post-op support and I was hurt by the comments made.

This was my moment to wallow. My pity party. And I don’t remember inviting anyone else to steal it from me.



My FS called a few days after the EPU and told me I probably suffer from LOR or low ovarian reserve. This simply means I don’t have many eggs left.

Whoa. Hold up a minute. Not many eggs left? I’m 29 years old for f@cks sake! How on earth did that happen?

FS has recommended a new drug called DHEA (sounds like a law enforcement agency). The drug is meant to improve my ovarian function and stimulate whatever eggs I do have left.

Time to sign off for a few months. Time to relax and let this DHEA do it's thing.

Our first failure

The paper work is filled in. We’ve met with the nurse and cycle coordinator. It’s all systems go. Just waiting for AF to show up. Feels strange waiting for AF to show up. I normally hate her arrivals but this time I want her to arrive on time.

Low and behold, AF arrives two days early. Woot! I was expecting my body to betray me and delay her arrival. So happy to begin the injections and get this process rolling. DH hates needles so it’s up to me each morning to jab myself in the stomach. Quick, sharp and over in seconds.

First scan reveals I have 2 follies on my left ovary and 3 on the right. Kind of low but the technician isn’t too concerned.

Three days later and the result is still the same. Two on the left and 3 on the right. Boo. The measurements are OK for collection so I’m in theatre three days later. The whole surgery experience is bloody scary. I opt for light sedation so I can watch my eggs being collected on the plasma screen. Yes, there is a plasma in the theatre! DH is sitting beside me squeezing my hand for reassurance. Half way through the surgery, I lose consciousness and black out. Yikes! Apparently I’m allergic to the sedation. The first words to pass my lips is “How many eggs did you collect?”.

FS gives me a sad look, takes my hand and tells me only 1 egg was collected.

The deepest sadness I’ve ever experienced washes over me. I begin to howl and DH tries to comfort me. One egg! One lousy egg! Hell, I can produce one egg every month without torturing my body with injections and drugs.

The following day my FS calls us with the news – the egg didn’t fertilise. Guttered. Devastated. Wasted. Inconsolable. Heartbroken.

ICSI, here we come!

We’ve decided to do a cycle next month. Finances are in place. We’re feeling fit, healthy and happy about our decisions. Time to let the FS know we’re keen to give ICSI a shot.