And the lucky # is?

So this morning I woke up and got a ride from my buddy and his mom (who no doubt is my other mother) and we headed to the clinic.

I checked in and was met by the doc where he did an ultrasound to check out all my follicles. After that I was led to an upstairs room where I changed in to a lovely rear-opening gown, booties and a fancy cafeteria-lady hat. In the operating room I hopped on the table, the anesthesiologist put a needle in my arm and the next thing I know POOF I am laying out in the operating waiting room.

After about 20 minutes I climbed in to a lazyboy chair where they gave me tea and cookies. YUM. Once the nurse felt that I could walk on my own, I changed back in to my clothes and went back downstairs to meet with the doc. He got thirteen eggs!

Doc told me not to get too excited because just because they had so many eggs doesn't mean that all of them will be fertilized. So I am awaiting a call tomorrow morning from the doc to tell me how many are on their way to being embryos. Upon that call he will tell me when I should go in for the transfer. It is looking like Wednesday or Thursday.

So far so good.

Over and Out.

Szörnyű Beer by Stig

On this trip, as a distraction, I was focused on finding the cheapest beer in Europe, or at least Hungary, and believed I'd I found it. Where? Tesco, the UK-based supermarket not unlike WalMart. However, my victory party was short-lived as Liz's dad laughed at me and swears there exists even cheaper beer.

I demanded answers and specifics as to where one could acquire this mythical, lousy beer.

Until Liz's dad's reaction I was content with my victory. I'd paid 109 Forint for the Tesco beer - 48 cents USD. Liz's father claims that outside Budapest, near our little (I do mean little) house by the river, I can buy a particularly crappy beer for 99 Forint which comes to...hold your breath... 44 cents! In the words of General D. Mac Arthur: "I shall return."

In the meantime I'm home now and my beautiful wife is faraway enduring all of this IVF business. She's tougher than me, that much I know. I sure married the right one.

He's gone home

So sad. I wish he could have stayed the entire time. According to the flight tracker he landed hours ago, but of course pop's Hungo internet isn't working. Hungo = Free unsecured WiFi in the area. Hooray for Hungos.
Today pops and I plan on heading to the grocery store to pick up some odds and ends. He ate all of the yummy leftovers from the restaurants so we need to stock up. I'll also head to grandmas this afternoon because she wants me to take some things to my mom. Another Hungo exchange. I am sure I will be pooped after this day is over.
I can't eat or drink after midnight tonight so I'll do my best to stuff as much of grandmas food in my face before I turn in to a gremlin. At which point I will be so full I won't be able to move...


IVF Update:
The retrieval has been scheduled for Sunday at 8:30am, Hungo time. I finally injected my last shot (for the time being) last night at 9:30pm. This shot induces ovulation so that all those mature follicles pop open to produce happy gappy lizzy eggs. I assume that the transfer of the embryos will be either on Wednesday or Thursday. At which point I will do more of the "relaxing" that I have already been doing.

Well, that's it for now. I'll let you all know how it goes and how many eggies they retrieve as soon as I find out. Enjoy the weekend.

Special from the Stig: Leftover Commie-nism

Rarely does someone living safe and sound in the hermeticaly-sealed United States witness something so incredily hazardous it stops 'em dead in their tracks. Well, let me tell ya about this certain metro station on the Buda side of the city.

It should be pointed out first that there are plenty more ways to die and/or be mangled in this part of Europe than other EU nations to the west. One example is walking. Being a pedestrian here requires a certain level of skill. I've heard reports that three people per day die by vehicular means in Budapest. I believe it. Walking in parts of the city reminds me of playing football: move quickly and keep your head on a swivel.

Back to the metro station. Your basic giant shards of broken glass in what used to be three separate display windows. Perfect height, by the way, for children to play with.

The interesting part is these windows look as if they were broken in 1987. Nobody has cleaned it up and certainly no one has even considered replacing the glass.

So who lets this happen? Well, I blame communism for 40 years of soul-crushing ideological brainwashing that still stains parts of Hungarian life to this day. That or maybe someone just forgot to call the window guy.

I return home tomorrow which is just perfect because I got over my jet-lag today. Oh the irony. Liz is reaching the most crucial point and Sunday is the retrieval so please keep her in your thoughts and prayers. Thanks for reading and for supporting her from faraway.

-Stig, Shug, Idiot...my wife has many names for me

Like a Pinata

What does it feel like? In a word - FULL. The injections are doubling the size of my ovaries. That and the past two nights we've hit two restaurants (one good & one great) and between four of us there was no holding back. My midsection is impossibly over-stuffed and, not to mention, I have black & blue marks from all my needlin' action. It's all been worth it. The 'Gomboc'- our dessert last night - a plum dumpling rolled in chopped walnuts with powdered sugar and still warm from the oven was worth it alone.

I'm so sluggish and I walk really, really, really slow (which drives my husband totally insane). I only feel like laying around inside all day. So, yesterday The Stig went walking with our friends from home while I stayed in. The above pic is of 'Anonymus' and it sits right next to the church I was baptised in.

We went to the clinic today and the doc says my right ovary is lagging behind my left. We're going back to the clinic tomorrow (Thursday) to see if they will catch up to each other. The doctor indicated that egg retreival will most likely be Saturday or Sunday. Therefore, today my husband did his part. The DNA has been frozen.

More tomorrow.

So Far, So Good

Monday we toured a bit of the city with friends from home who are in town for few days kicking off a wintery European vacation. Brave souls. It's great having them here, but, sadly for us, tomorrow they'll move westward to Vienna, then on to Prague and finally to Paris. Not a bad tour, eh?

One of our stops was at St. Stephen's Basillica where I lit a prayer candle for our little IVF embryos. It's an amazing place which took fifty years to build and this sorry little photo does it absolutely no justice. Oddly enough St. Stephen's 'holy' right hand is kept, petrified, in a gold encased glass box that one must hand over 200 Forints (85 cents) to illuminate. Otherwise you have to look at a 500 year old hand in the dark. Seriously.

Official IVF Update...We took the metro/bus ride to the clinic where The Stig got to meet The Doc. My ultrasound showed one mature ready-to-go follicle (which won't get used) and at least six follicles measuring 11MM and another two at 10mm.

All good news as it means I'm responding to the stimulation medication very well.

Also, I was given an injection of Citratide to prevent natural ovulation. I have to inject that one along with Gonal-F. This means two shots per day BUT hopefully only for two days. We'll go back Wednesday to see how the follicles are progressing towards the 15MM target as well as to schedule egg retreival for either Friday or Saturday.

Breakfast at Grandma's

Grandma lives in Kispest in a soviet-era apartment complex or 'People Storage Units' as my husband calls them. Let's just say the architecture was aimed at utility with little focus on aesthetics. OK, zero focus on aesthetics.

She had two tall-boy cans of beer to present Stig upon his arrival. It's 10AM. Why? I have no idea, but it was sweet of her. He drinks them both claiming something about "easier than carrying them back home."

Grandma was so happy to see us. Oh, and she wants to cradle our baby before she dies. That's hungarian for ya.