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7 out of my 11 eggs were immature. Of the remaining 4, 3 fertilized. This news is only okay, but it is okay.

My feelings about this are all over the map. I admit I'm disappointed with my response. Although I made more follicles than I have in the past, they weren't uniform in size; on one end of the scale I had the bloated monster, which was 24 mm at trigger, and on the other I had a few that were at 12 mm. Given the strung-out sizes, it's not a surprise that so few eggs were mature. What you hope for is something I didn't achieve: a well-behaved cohort of similarly sized follicles.

But my disappointment isn't deep, and I doubt it will be enduring, especially if we have two good-looking embryos on day three. It's amazing how little we learn to be satisfied with.

What makes us happy is so highly specific. Though I wish I'd had a better response, I didn't, and I can't change that. When I think of those three fertilized eggs just a few short blocks away working very hard to divide, it's impossible not to feel a little giddy thrill. I get unreasonably excited that we have more to work with than we've had in the past, as if improving the numbers were the ultimate goal. Then I remember that the objective is something a lot more elusive: a healthy pregnancy followed by a live birth. Having one more embryo than I've had in past cycles is encouraging, but it's not an end in itself.

And yet healthy babies can come from objectively crappy cycles, and even "perfect cycles" (well worth the scare quotes, in my opinion) often fail. I am still hopeful.

Transfer will be on Thursday afternoon.