17hrsp5dt

It's only been 17 hours since transfer so I can't really say 1dp5dt just yet.

Transfer was as smooth as it was last time. They swapped the speculum half way through to a longer one to hold my cervix in place, but after a few minutes of soft prodding the catheter was through and I'm went the little embryo! We have another photo, but to be honest, it doesn't really mean much to us...we weren't given a grade or anything like that, all we know is that it wasn't a perfect last ocher, but it was deemed good enough to transfer and given a high enough chance of pregnancy that they felt confident using the theatre, two nurses, embryologist and equipment. The pros of this;

1) All we know is it is a 'viable' blast, which stops the obsessive comparison of embryo grade to success rates and spending hours googling what our chances are and either a) filling with false hope or b) becoming negative before we need to.
2) in the darkest of hours, provides a little glimmer of hope that no matter what, the clinic would NOT have wasted time putting this little snowflake back in if they didn't think there was a chance they could sign us off the books in 2 weeks.

The cons do this are;

1) I can't obsessively google trying to make myself feel better when it's 4am and I can't sleep;
2) I'm an eternal realist verging on pessimist, I would rather be armed with the facts, no matter how difficult they are to swallow, than have any false hope and be left heart broken. I have no facts.

I don't think they give the best quality photos. There isn't much magnification or easily distinguishable features. If you look carefully, which, only I would, it seems like the water bath they put the embryos in is 'vibrating' and they take the photo while it's doing so.
So, this is our little guy. I've decided getting a photo - worst idea ever. Google blastocyst - this little guy does not bear any resemblance to a 'normal' blast, which I've obviously decided means he's already left us. You can just make out two area where he's bursting out of his 'shell' and he was dividing away healthily until transfer so who knows. Thawed embryos aren't pretty, it's also pretty hard to find photos of thawed embryos online - needless to say non look like this. So I'll just step away from the computer.

It is now 4.33am and I can't sleep. I fell to sleep just fine around 11pm, but woke up around 40mins ago and my brain went into overdrive and I'm wide awake. It doesn't help that the bedroom is about a billion degrees, I have a snoring husband next to me and because the window is open to cool the room down I can hear the dawn chorus and the rain outside. Needless to say I think I'm awake for a while. This isn't unusual for me, and I would usually lay in bed tossing and turning for hours but I've been told when this happens I need to 'do something" and then my body should naturally get tired again. Normally, I take low dose sleeping tablets before bed which just about make sure I sleep through the night, but for the next 9 days I will not be taking any form of medication so I think a lot of lost sleep is going to happen. I believe the sleeping tablets I use are similar to Tylenol PM in the states, but without the painkillers, which I've been told is safe in pregnancy, but I still won't risk it around any possible implantation.

As for me, I think one negative cycle will all but destroy any positivity we both have and it's now been replaced with a horrid belief in 'reality', or at least what we've deemed reality. I think we're both geared up to see another BFN in 7 days time and as much as i want to shake that, it's pretty hard.

I sat on the sofa last night and told Martin I already knew it had failed - how could I possibly know?! I need to try and shake this dark cloud and forget about this as much as possible. I know some woman say they will just 'enjoy being PUPO while they still can' but for me, as heartless as it sounds, I think I'll only survive by trying to ignore I'm PUPO for as long as possible.

Well, now 5.08am, the rain is coming down harder and my 'doing stuff' hasn't helped as I'm still wide awake. To make matters worse I can hear Colin on the landing and if he hears me awake, he won't stop meowing until I'm up.