Eight is Enough

I apologize for not posting sooner. We've been home for hours, sleeping on the couch, drooling, and generally freaking out the cats for being home in the middle of the day. We also gorged ourselves on pasta and antipasto from here, (and by the way, RRRG, they forgot my anchovies!)so it aided in the mid-day sleep. Of course the fact that Partner had a little procedure today helped too.

Okay, okay-- I have no sly way to tell you this, so I'll just come out and say it. We got eight.

The clinic was a buzzing place alright, and we were two-to-a-room with a curtain dividing us. The woman next to Partner had just come out of her retrieval as we were coming in. She had a reaction to one of the meds, which just made us both nervous. But she sounded sweet as could be. Later after Partner's procedure, she was dressing to go home. We could see her little feet and her husband's feet helping her dress. She had really cute shoes on, and I kept gesturing to Partner to look at them. Because of course on the day your partner has a wee surgery to get her eggs taken out of her body what she really wants to ogle cute shoes with you. As our neighbor we had never seen was leaving, she called through the curtain to us, "Good luck," and I felt like she was my new best friend.

I've read on some blogs about the waiting room camaraderie that happens in IVF clinics. We've never experienced it. That was the first time another patient has made any contact with us. We're very pal o'mine with the staff, after all, we were there every day for a week and one day we were there three times! (They were trying to figure out how to get us on the payroll.) But nary a talk with another patient...

I'm apprehensive now because as hard as I felt stims were, this feels worse. How many will fertilize? How will they look? Will there be a three, four, or five day transfer? How will I feel? Will it stick?

Will it stick?

That's the big question. I've never done this before. I spent major portions of my life scared to death I was going to get pregnant and now I wake up in a cold sweat wondering if I can get and stay pregnant. B, a nice Irish boy who I was drinking with last Friday, told me such worry was probably unfounded. In fact, he wanted to move to the other side of the booth since his position was that with all the drugs I was taking, he might just have to look at me and I'd get pregnant. I might have believed at one point, but I've dramatically changed my position regarding the ease of getting up the pole.

For now, it seems important we focus on eight and be really happy with that. We just hold our breath until tomorrow and then we cross the next scary bridge.

But right now we're in the land of crazy eights, and even though I can hear Partner snoring from here, I know she's happy too.