Well, the embryologist called. One of the eggs wasn't suitable for injection, but the other has fertilised, so Rucksack III is currently waiting for us in the lab and hopefully working hard on dividing nicely. Perhaps we should change his/her name to Chesney (The One and Only).
Although I was a little disappointed, I still feel more hopeful than I did at this stage last time round. It only takes one, and although our odds of one implanting are slightly reduced by only having one in total, it's still the quality of the embryo that counts. And surely, after everything we've done over the last six months, the quality of both my eggs and DH's sperm MUST have been better this time round.
I asked about the sedation, and the embryologist said Mr Miracle Worker prefers people to be awake for transfers, but that she would talk to him.
She later called back and proposed what I think is the best possible compromise - because I'm sure it's best to avoid sedation if I can.
My transfer will be scheduled for some time on Sunday morning, after all the egg collections for that day have taken place. Until the end of today, they won't be able to say exactly when that will be, as they will be monitoring people for the rest of today to see if any of them are ready to trigger tonight. But that will mean the anaesthetist is still around when I go in. Mr Miracle Worker wants to start me off awake, and if it gets too uncomfortable for me, he's promised to put me to sleep.
Having got that little detail sorted, I feel quite calm about the whole thing. I don't feel too anxious about little Rucksack/Chesney sitting there in the lab, because I know the embryologists are on the ball and s/he will have five star treatment while s/he's there. And to be honest, if s/he isn't going to survive to day 3, it doesn't really matter whether s/he's inside me or not - but at least if I know before transfer, I'll be spared the agony of the 2-week wait.
In reality, though, I'm not letting myself think about the possibility of having nothing to transfer, and am concentrating all my energies on praying that our little embie will survive - not just until Sunday, but to grow into a baby and then an adult and ... well, you get the picture. One sometimes has to be specific in one's requests.
So the next hurdle is the phonecall from the embryologist tomorrow to see how Rucksack/Chesney (Ruckney? Chessack?) has done overnight, and then hopefully instructions about when I need to be in London and what I need to do on Sunday. And in the meantime, I've restarted the Dexamethasone and aspirin, am on Cyclogest twice a day, and the Clexane starts up again tonight. I'll while away the waiting time with drugs...