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But seriously, folks...!

Okay, I want to tell you a joke:

As we went into IVF #1, Paul and I had a number of serious conversations about how many embryos we'd want to transfer. We nodded solemnly over the consent form where we had to acknowledge the risk of high-order multiples, and agreed with the doctor's advice that, given my age, there was no compelling reason to transfer more than two. We would, we told each other, freeze the rest.

Ahahahahahahahahahahaha. Get it? "More than two"? Hah? HAH? "Freeze the rest"?!

Okay, here's another:

When IVF #2 was converted to an IUI, we knew the likelihood of my getting pregnant was slim, especially given the poor fertilization results of IVF #1. But when I did get pregnant, we had an anxious two weeks of worrying whether I'd conceived multiples, even discussing selective reduction if more than two embryos had implanted.

Ahahahahahahahahahahaha. Ohhhhhhh. Yeah. That was a good one.

Wait, I have another one:

Going into IVF #3, we had to fill out a form specifying how many embryos we expected to transfer, and another stipulating what should be done with any leftovers — freeze or donate. After long consideration of the fact that I'd achieved pregnancy on two out of two injectable cycles, we decided we'd transfer "two if they're gorgeous, three only if they're lousy."

Ahahahahahahahahahahaha. Shit, man, you're killing me.

So today after I got the fertilization call, Paul and I revisited this issue yet again. It was like a night at the goddamn Improv. You should have heard us laughing. In the general hilarity I dislocated my knee by slapping it so violently, and Paul's at the hospital now getting his chest X-rayed. I elbowed him in the ribs that hard.

Somehow knowing we only have three to work with changes things. If we had more, I'd transfer two good ones with nary a backward look, trusting that the remaining embryos would either make it to freeze or weren't strong enough to produce a pregnancy to begin with. If we only had two, obviously we'd transfer both, regardless of quality. Three, with its attendant promise not of a greater chance at pregnancy but of a higher risk of multiples, changes everything.

Once Paul gets back, after I've signed the cast encasing his torso, we'll be continuing the discussion. I still feel reluctant to transfer more than two, especially if all three are good-looking. (Ahahahahahahahahahahaha. Stop! I'm wetting myself.) And yet the idea of wasting the third makes me shudder, when I know how few embryos make the grade to be frozen here. What if that third embryo were...the one?