The night before my transfer, I wrote a letter to the embryo. I explained what a miracle it already was. I promised happiness and love galore should it be meant to be my child. I loved this embryo as terrified as I was to do so. I knew too well the heart pain of failed attempts. The emotional isolation and biological drive to continue despite it all.
So, transfer day came, and it was a truly magical morning. Despite the sterile atmosphere of the center's operating room area, the warmth and joy in the air could not be denied. There was laughter, kind eyes and kind acts, and there was love. The doctors rotate OR duties, so I ended up having a doctor I had not met, but he was both hilarious and competent. So, I was wheeled back to the procedure area where the team worked like a well oiled machine--for me, it was so interesting to watch all of the roles happening simultaneously, I forgot that I should be nervous or worried, etc. The room was freezing cold, but my partner was able to sit at my head, they had soft music playing, and the team placed the embryo.
I had acupuncture sessions both before and after the transfer procedure that day. Francie, the acupuncturist at the center, was yet another amazing member of the care team. She sent me off with some sound advice to help encourage implantation, and the morning ended with another drive home. It would be another thirteen days of waiting and wondering about an outcome. But, wait I did, binge watching election results coverage, working, and rubbing my tummy just in case life was brewing in there and needed a little encouragement.