To update the tens of readers out of my nineteens of readers who aren't my Facebook friends.....
There I was yesterday, fretting and pacing and imagining dire scenarios as to why the embryologist at ORM wasn't calling me. Clearly she was hesitant to give me the bad news that she knew would crush my soul, that my little BFU hadn't made it to blastocyst stage.
Or maybe she was taking an extra-long lunch, totally oblivious to my anxiety. Psycho.
Shannon, Embryologist: So we've been watching that one embryo...
SE: And the little guy grew like gangbusters (or maybe she said like a gangster, I'm not sure)...
SE: So since the embryo made it to blastocyst stage....
I think Shannon, Embryologist, might still be deaf from my shriek of joy. Shrug. It happens.
I was so relieved that I completely forget to ask what grade BFU was or anything else relevant, such as how long it would take to get results from the chromosomal testing (aka PGS). But that's where one cell went, while the rest of BFU has been frozen for hopefully future use.
The wait begins anew.
But in the meantime, whew. Big whew.