Tres, Drei, Tre, Trois

Or as we say, three.

Thursday afternoon we transferred three embryos, and I am scared to death.

On the one hand, I am full of hopeful anticipation. We've done everything right, I'm healthy, only 30, the transfer went well, I'm doing all the PIO shots, we want this so badly ... why wouldn't it work?

Then Mrs. Pessimist rears her ugly head to play devil's advocate, as she is wont to do quite frequently. You know the statistics. You know it's all numbers and chance. You're probably mentally and physically stable enough to go through this again ... and again. Your life has been really good so far. Why would this work?

They say the transfer went well. We had six fertilized embryos, and although we'd previously discussed transferring two, once the time came, Dr. Pleasant encouraged us to transfer three. Which makes me think that everything wasn't so great.

Once they brought in the picture of the three best (graded 3+, 3-, and 2+), I just puddled. Dr. P told us they rated them 1 to 5, with 5 being the best. In consulting my own personal fertility library, I see that most clinics rate in the reverse order, with 1 being the best. Anywho, he said they rarely see a 5, so our little globs of cells were right average.

And although he "hates anecdotal stories," he proceeded to tell me that their most recently pregnant patient got pregnant with a Grade 1 embryo.

After making the decision to go with three, doctor and nurses did all the prep work (you know, the glamorous stuff - stirrups, speculum, etc) and called for the embryos. Cue drum roll.

Fulling expecting yet another masked figure to arrive bearing a syringe of the goods, I was flabbergasted when the female (very nice that the newest stranger in the room was a woman) embryologist wheeled in an incubator. Like what you put a newborn baby in. The irony was not lost on me, but filled me with hope.

After asking me to repeat my full name, she let J. look through the microscope at the blobs. I eagerly asked him to tell me what they looked like ... details, please! "They're real small," he says. When pushed for more info, I got "Like I said, they're real small. Not much to see."

The transfer itself was much like an IUI, but performed with many more spectators and much more care. I kept the photo of the three blobs on my chest, with my Chinese jade necklace resting on top. My father gave it to me years ago, for luck, as I embarked on a long trip.

Thus, I've spent practically every moment since Thursday afternoon in my bedroom, laying around. This is my first venture from the bedroom, and it feels nice to actually see out the window. My time in bed is probably excessive, but once you've gone this far, why take chances.

In another consultation with my personal fertility library, I read that implantation after a Day 3 transfer usually takes place 48-72 hours after transfer. Which would be now.

So I'm moving slowly with care, gazing longingly at my blob's first, and perhaps only, pictures; resting my hand on my belly, trying to send "stick" vibes to those within.

Please.