I remember so clearly waiting in my bed, in my gown, in the room with four partitions. I don't remember much about that morning, or getting to the hospital, just that I felt excitement, a little fear, and confidence that we could definitely be the couple this worked for, first try. I was cosy and comfy, the nurses were so lovely. The embryologist, anesthetist and surgeon came round to each quadrant, explaining what would happen. I was to go first, having done my trigger shot 36 hours previously. The anesthetist was lovely and friendly, everything felt good - why wouldn't this work first go?! She told me that I'd be in a twilight anesthetic, and that I wasn't to shift at each needle puncture. Hold still, OK? How hard could that be, I thought. I was wheeled down to the room, after the 'champagne shot', feeling woozy. More anesthetic, then they begin. The trouble with the 'don't shift' advice is that you're unconscious when the needle does its thing - so you 'wake up' thinking OW, and because it's the obvious, normal reaction, try to move away from the surgeon stabbing you. Then you're out, then it happens again. First time round they got 13 eggs, so, 13 puncture wounds. I came to back in the room with four rooms, feeling pretty good. Comfy and cosy once more, no pain at that point, Steven was there to hold my hand, and the very best bit, hot toast with butter, and warm, sweet tea. I started to get sore, but it was manageable. Got dressed to go home, and as I gingerly walked down the hallway - feeling emotional, positive, negative, confident, bruised - the embryologist came running after us. So sorry, we need you to come back, slight issue. We need to do ICSI instead of IVF, can you sign these forms which say that you're aware of the higher percentage of disability in ICSI babies, and to protect the hospital from any legal issue?
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