The masseuse you paid for the hour back massage had to groan the entire time he was working on you. When he was done, the poor guy had to sit down for a rest, looking entirely spent.
I on the other hand, felt 100 times lighter and more relaxed. I would go back but I think he would cry if he saw me again.
I'm having some much needed me time, having left darling child up at hornsby. Frankly, she was beginning to wear on me, delightful as she is, perhaps the 2 months as her sole parent was starting to take its tole. Poor child has been such an angel through this and I love her. But so nice to get away on my own. (Hubby had a meeting across town.)
Tomorrow we find out how many eggs decided to divide and conquer. The overachieving ones should be at 8 cell stage or more. The slow pokes should just give up now.
I hope we have a few good ones. But then it presents a conundrum. How many do we squirt up into the safety of my uterus.
Since G is leaving tomorrow, we've made a plan. Just so I don't have to make any decisions on my own at the Monday transfer.
The plan is:
One good blasty - obvious. Up it goes and good luck to it!
Two good ones - send em both up and let them duke it out.
Three or more good ones - send one up and let the others chill in cryovac.
Mind you, we have only ever had one good one despite whatever quantity of eggs and fertilizations we've had.
So to step back, perhaps we should just be praying for at least one good one on day 5.
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