30.

30 eggs. That’s how many they got. I still haven’t quite wrapped my brain around that number. In all honesty, it kind of freaks me out. But I know it’s a good thing and I’m hoping it means that at least if this cycle doesn’t work out, I won’t have to do another fresh cycle again.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. The hospital process went well. DH did his thing, then came and found me in the room on the L&D wing where they had me situated. I was dreading getting the IV and it was just as bad as I remembered it. Maybe worse, since they let that cute little med student who had been in all my ultrasounds last week “give it a try” first on my left wrist. Not sure what she did wrong but after a few excruciating minutes of poking and digging, I looked down at my arm and there was no IV in it. Then my clinic nurse had to do it again on my right side.

In short order, they wheeled me into the OR. ORs are kind of scary places to the girl who could faint at the sight of scraped knee and this one was no different. They asked me some questions, marveled at my socks (I went with the dinosaur RAWR ones I have from a previous sock exchange, though everyone was asking after the ladybugs/catfish ones), then anesthesia went to work knocking me out. I guess there was some kind of miscommunication because they started putting the speculum in before I was fully out. But anyways, next thing I knew, I was back on my cozy hospital bed and DH was whispering to me, “Babe! They got 30 eggs!” Then the nurse came in and said, “Did he tell you we got 30 eggs? The average is 7-10.” (Of the 33 follicles I had growing, which ps I had no idea it was this many!, 30 had eggs inside.)

I processed all this with my eyes closed, coming in and out of consciousness. At one point they asked me if I was in pain. I checked in with my pelvic region and yep, pain. So they put something else in my IV for it which almost immediately washed it away. I sank back into a delicious sleep, but when I woke up again I felt nauseous and dizzy. Spent the next hour or so struggling with that. They gave me a Zofran which did nothing. Finally, I threw up and then felt a lot better for 30 minutes or so. I was talking, joking, thinking about going home, until the nausea returned again. Eventually, they got a hold of anesthesia who came back with another shot of something in my IV for the nausea. Talk about drugged up!

We ended up leaving sometime after 1 pm when I was finally feeling up to it, about three hours after I came out of surgery. I was dreading the car ride home. The whole time during recovery I kept having this feeling like I desperately had to pee, but then I would go and – nothing. Or very little. This got me freaked out all over again about OHSS and it was frankly a very uncomfortable feeling. I closed my eyes though, held on, and mostly fell asleep and before I knew it, I was home safe, curled up on the couch, with DH in the kitchen whipping up some amazing California BLTs. After lunch, it was up to bed for me, where I remained for the next four hours or so.

Which pretty much brings me up to now. I am in pain. Like, a lot of pain. I can’t really walk upright. Peeing is almost excruciating. The pain is all over my pelvic region, belly and lower back. It’s pretty constant but so much worse when I go to the bathroom. I don’t know if this is normal? They gave me Vicodin for pain relief but I’m hesitant to take it, for fear it will make me feel sick again. So for now, I’m sticking to Tylenol, fluids, and as much rest as possible. And I’m praying, praying, praying I don’t hyperstimulate.

Other than that, trying to focus on the positive. 30! Jesus.