T day

Yes! 1 x blastocyst on board, 100% intact from the thaw and expanding. All went to plan. Here, for posterity, is a brief record of Transfer Day.

  • 6.30am. Alarm goes off. Ignore. Nipper comes in. Progesterone, oestrogen, and CBeebies (first 2 for me, ┬áCBeebies for the Nipper).
  • 7.00am. Fertility yoga sequence (aka lying on floor coughing up remnants of delightful lingering cold that Nipper kindly bestowed upon me).
  • 8.00am. Briefly check work emails. Five million emails from far east overnight. Read manically, compose update to client in haste as due to leave at 8.30am.
  • 8.35am. Get in shower.
  • 8.55am. Leave house. Eat toast in car. Beautiful day. Deposit N in nursery. Reassure H that we will arrive perfectly on time despite leaving house nearly thirty minutes later than planned. Down large bottle of water to fill bladder (procedural requirement).
  • 9.50am. Arrive at clinic. Exactly on time. (IN YOUR FACE, H).
  • 10.00am. OK, really need a wee now.
  • 10.01am. Shown through. ┬áDress self in standard issue towel and plastic clogs. Reassuringly brisk consultant, nurses and kindly sonographer. Embryologist puts embryo on screen and confirms all looking good. Legs in stirrups. Stare pointedly at ceiling for next 10 minutes whilst things go on with catheters and my cervix.
  • 10.30am. ‘Tis done. Best Wee Ever. Brisk advice from brisk nurse about dos and don’ts. We get a photo to take home (of our embryo, not of me in stirrups).
  • 11.00am. Brunch with my H.
  • 12.00pm. Get home. Get into bed. So do H and the Dog. THERE IS NO ROOM IN THE BED.
  • 1.00pm. Insane conversation with parents.
  • 2.00pm. Watch Netflix.
  • 4.00pm. Consider packing for mini break. Write blog instead.

Plans for rest of the day involve: brief walk with Dog, collecting car from garage, and avoiding packing until the last conceivable moment. Fascinating, no?

Official test date is 21 September. Resolved absolutely under no circumstances to go through insanity of last time and test before then. Also googled “how early can I test after FET” and “where can I buy first response tests en route to Glasgow.”

Right, little star, get implanting, and please, please stick. X



Earlier in the year, H and I decided to book a week off in June, and a fortnight in September, with the idea that we would have a “sensible” June holiday (i.e. somewhere British, damp, self-catering, i.e. like being at home but without any of the convenience), and then an indulgent week in southern Spain.

Then my parents offered to pay for a family holiday in September in a hotel in southern Spain to which we had always wanted to go, which was very exciting.

Then followed several months of prevarication by my parents whereafter they suddenly announced that they were going to buy a holiday home in France.

Then it was suggested that we would have a trial villa holiday in France.

Then it was suggested that the venue be moved to the UK, as sister in law is expecting.

Then brother and sister in law, quite understandably, said that they wouldn’t come.

Then my parents pulled out and said that the two of them were going away to New England instead.

So this left H and I mid-cycle with no holiday planned, but as it looked like transfer would fall slap bang in the middle of our holiday period, we decided we would have an enjoyable staycation for the fortnight instead, and have a relaxing time at home, and try and not get too jealous about other people’s holiday photos on Facebook.

Anyway, this is what I have learned about staycations this week.

Lounging by pool with cocktails = guiltily long hot bath with cup of tea whilst Nipper in nursery

Spa treatment = blow-drying whole head of hair instead of just fringe

All you can eat buffet = 4 pieces of toast

Banterous conversation = conference calls which I agree to do because I’m not really on holiday

Vibrant nightlife = watching Bake Off in bed at 9pm

Me time = 2 hours mumsnet

Discovering new places = trying to find baby changing facilities in local village

Absorbing local culture = argument with neighbour re: parking restrictions

Soaking up the sun = finding fifteen minute slot in endless sodding rain to walk Dog

Conclusions: screw this, booking a trip to Scotland for after the transfer.

T-3. Excited.