I was asked to show up with a full bladder, and apparently I did too good a job of filling that organ, as the embryo transfer required that the nurse press down on my abdomen with the ultrasound sensor while I tried not to urinate directly into the face of the doctor adjacent to my vadge.
Actual transcript of the procedure:
DR: Can you try to relax your legs?
Me: They're tense because you're SMOOSHINGTHEBLADDEROHMYGOD.
DR: Please don't pee on me.
Me: Dude. I am really trying.
In the end, fortunately, I did not pee on the reproductive endocrinologist. They also assured me that I wouldn't pee out the newly-installed embryos, although I released about a liter of urine with great force, so I hope they're right.
Also! And this was the best part - we got souvenir photos of the two embryos. If these two make it to baby-hood, I am SO putting these shots in photo albums and using them to squick the kids out when they become teenagers. One appears to be dividing neatly and evenly, with cells of mostly equal size. One is more of a spaz. (God, let me not be having real-life Wakefield twins. I'll take Skywalker twins. Or Weasley twins. Or Olsen twins, for that matter.)
Progesterone shots still not terribly uncomfortable at the time of injection (which has given rise to a new paranoia that perhaps we're doing them in the wrong segment of the upper, outer butt quadrant and that the injections should maybe be more painful and difficult. I have no explanation for how this idea entered my mind.), but afterwards, patches of skin around the injection site are irritated and sore/itchy. Lotion with aloe helps.
Now we wait, shoot up progesterone, and see what comes of the pregnancy test on May 21.