15 Days Post Egg Collection – Riding the Highs, Tackling the Lows, and Getting Back in the Saddle
Let’s rewind a bit.
Last time I shared, I was sitting in the day surgery waiting room, wrapped in the world’s best heated blanket, nervously waiting to be wheeled in. I was equal parts terrified and hopeful—clutching onto the idea that maybe, just maybe, we’d walk away from this with a little spark of success.
Well, we got more than we expected.
Our doctor collected 13 eggs. Yep, 13. I didn’t quite believe it at first—it felt like a win we didn’t want to jinx. But at the same time, my doctor noticed something else. I was showing signs of OHSS—Ovarian Hyperstimulation Syndrome. For those who don’t know, it’s a response your body can have to the fertility meds when the ovaries go a bit overboard. It can cause bloating, pain, nausea, vomiting, and in some cases, even fluid build-up in your abdomen and lungs. It’s not fun. At all.
So, after recovery, Frank picked me up and we made a beeline to the chemist for meds to help calm things down. Friday was all about rest, fluids, and staying horizontal.
By Saturday, I was feeling a little more human and managed to get out for a slow walk and a few errands with Frank while he was in town. That’s when the clinic called—11 of the 13 eggs had fertilised overnight. I nearly cried. It felt like one of those little moments of magic after so much stress.
Then Sunday hit, and it all took a turn.
I felt pretty rotten—nauseous, no appetite, and just exhausted. I tried to eat, but by lunchtime I was vomiting and could barely keep water down. By Monday morning, it was clear I wasn’t getting better. I spoke to my specialist and was told to head straight to ED.
Six hours later I was on a drip, being given meds for nausea and pain. Blood work and a scan confirmed what we’d feared: moderate OHSS. I was admitted for a few nights of hospital care. Not quite the recovery week I’d imagined…
But while I was stuck in hospital, our little embryos were behaving beautifully.
By the time I was discharged on Wednesday and had my final check-up, we found out we had eight strong embryos to freeze. EIGHT. I’m still in shock. We knew we might get a couple, but we never dared dream we’d get numbers like that. We feel incredibly lucky.
Because of the OHSS, our specialist advised against doing a fresh transfer. She wants me to fully recover first—which makes sense. So, we’re pressing pause. Rest now, transfer later when my body’s ready.
Back to the Bush
I got home last Thursday and, honestly, I think I pushed it a bit. Seven hours in the car over not-so-smooth roads really knocked me around. Friday was a blur—mostly horizontal again. I was disappointed to miss our local field day, but I knew I had to put myself first.
Saturday I was feeling brighter, so I ventured out to help at the races. It was freezing—like, zero-point-nine-degrees kind of freezing. Queensland weather, make up your mind! But it was good to see some familiar faces and feel part of the world again.
Sunday was spent slowly getting the kitchen sorted, checking food supplies for the upcoming muster, and gently shuffling things back into my version of "order" (Hubby had done well, bless him, but you know me—I like to know where everything is!).
Now it’s Tuesday morning. Some of the crew arrives this afternoon, so I’m back in cooking mode—on light duties, of course. Still can’t lift or do too much, but it feels good to be back doing something, even if it’s just feeding the troops.
Sleep has been hit and miss—I’ve been awake since 3am. So, I’ve sent off a few emails for our upcoming Diggers Day at the Richmond Races (mark your calendars: 16.08.25!) and now, I’ve finally managed to write this update. I also found the post I wrote right before surgery that I completely forgot to share—strong painkillers will do that, I suppose. Just ask Hubby. He’s still shaking his head.
Where We’re At
So here we are: eight frozen embryos tucked away, a body slowly healing, and a heart full of quiet hope. There’s still a road ahead, but I’m proud of how far we’ve come. This process has tested me—physically, emotionally, and mentally—but it’s also reminded me of my strength.
To everyone who’s messaged, sent love, or just quietly cheered us on—thank you. It means the world. Truly.
Until next time,
D x
Sunrise to Sunset: Chasing the Dream
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