The transfer went really well. To be honest, it was like a show you watch on the Learning Channel - the whole science of the thing (although I'm hideously ignorant about much of that) is amazing. Apart from the glaring display of my lady parts (nothing will get you over personal modesty faster than some kind of gynecological condition), I was totally absorbed by watching how it worked: our names clearly labeled on the petri dish; the close-up of the two great-looking embryos; the catheter gently coaxing each of them in; and then the ultrasound, which allowed us to see the catheter entering the uterus and releasing the embryos. Can't see the embryos on that one.
It was surprisingly painless, apart from the famous full-bladder portion of the experience. In order to get a good ultrasound of the uterus, since they're working from the outside this time, they want you to have a full bladder for the procedure. Which means you need to drink 28-36 ounces of water one hour beforehand, finishing at least 30 minutes before the procedure is scheduled to start. Thankfully, they weren't running behind. For a girl who can barely make it a few hours on a road trip, this part caused me a lot of anxiety; though, honestly, it wasn't that bad.
So now, we wait. And let me be clear: I suck at that. As in, I could barely make it through the morning of Christmas Eve when I was a kid, anticipating the big family dinner at Grandma's and Package Opening Extravaganza to follow. I've stayed off my feet yesterday and today, but I'll be glad to go back to work tomorrow: I need something else to think about.
For now, here they are: our two beautiful embryos. One 8-cell, one 7-cell, both "looking great," according to the embryologist. Send them some good settling-in prayers and karma, would you? They have received their first maternal command: hang on, little ones. We love you.