Decisions, Decisions

Another thing we had to do at our appointment was sit down with our doctor and go over some very important decisions.  Some were easy to make.  Use ICSI?  Duh.  Freeze any leftover eggs?  Of course.    Assisted Hatching?  No need.  How many embryos to implant?  Hmmmm....

Okay, so for a woman of my age, here is the textbook recommendation.  If they are good quality embies, put back one.  If they are less than ideal, put back two.  The doctor explain that we could be more conservative and only put back one, regardless of quality, OR we could be more aggressive and put back two, regardless of quality.  With the former option, our chances of conceiving at all are lowered.  With the latter, our chance of conceiving twins as opposed to a singlet is 1 in 2.  Jake and I stared at each other awkwardly for a few minutes and debated in our usual, snarky, hyperbolic style.  "You know how I feel."  "No, you said you want to do what's best.  That's not clear here."  "I want to do what's most effective."  "Well, most effective isn't necessarily best.  Putting back five would be most effective!"  The doctor jumped in here to make sure we understood that nobody is cramming five embryos into a 30 year old.  She must have thought we were getting heated, because she handed over the form and told us to think about it over the next few weeks.  She was staying out of it.

However, with a few minutes left to ourselves while waiting for our next meeting with the IVF nurse, we knew our decision: the aggressive course, two embryos, high possibility for twins.  Essentially, we just know that we'll regret it terribly if we don't conceive after only putting back one.  From that moment on, we've been sort of deliriously giggling and joking about how crazy our future life with twins will be.  Jake's been peering, with wrinkled forehead, into his cramped backseat, trying to picture TWO carseats shoved into that tiny M3.  I've been mentally rehearsing trying to get from the parking garage in our future Dallas high-rise to the apartment door with two infants and a single sack of groceries.  When we talk about signing up for insurance at his law firm, he'll say, "Well, it's cheap for me but more expensive when I add you and..." "The TWINS," I finish.  And we both crack up and whimper a little simultaneously.

Dear Lord, one will REALLY suffice, but I promise I'll be gracious if you double our pleasure.