…because there is just no other sensible explanation for what happened today.
Thank you for all the universe raging/sacrifices/magic spells/onesie wearing you did on my behalf because I cannot believe I am getting to write these words… MY APPOINTMENT WASN’T BAD NEWS!!!
It started off much better with perky waiting room songs. I was slightly embarrassed that Mr Barren sang along whilst looking at the work he brought with him. He denies all knowledge of this now, but I have ears and so did the rest of the waiting room. When I looked at the other stricken faces around me, I just didn’t have the heart to shush the one completely oblivious chirpy person in the room.
I trudged into the scanning room on my own. It was a trainee sonographer so I couldn’t ask all my usual questions since it seemed like she needed to concentrate somewhat, and for once I couldn’t see the screen. It took a long time to scan me. IVF nurses are obviously more used to sights such as the disaster area that are my ovaries and uterus, but New Lady was clearly not used to such unappealing insides and exclaimed, lamented and gurned throughout. Slightly disconcerting. My hurried defence of, “I have severe endometriosis, really it was worse before the operations!” was met with a sorrowful nod of understanding, but I still felt a tad sorry for my ugly innards.
The trainee was being trained by another lady who would. not. tell. me. anything. She told me to go outside and wait for the nurse. Yeah right, you say “wait for the nurse”, I say “sweat out 15 litres and turn into a wet, dribbling mess over the 50 minutes they make you stew while the nurse… does what exactly? Plays solitaire? Practices handstands?” Lucky for me I was about a foot taller than the sonographer and a good 20lbs heavier so I just stood my ground while she tried to manoeuvre me and read the chart over her head. Short people like it when you do that don’t they? Even without my glasses on I could see an “x” next to that beautiful number, 21mm.
I still turned into a wet, dribbling mess in the waiting room but I needn’t have. I appreciate that for the general population of 31 year old IVFers, this isn’t anything to get excited about, but I am freaking OVER THE MOON. Ladies, we have 3 follicles. THREE! God knows where they sprouted from, but they are 18mm, 20mm and 21mm. My lining is now a majestic 16mm.
I am so excited to type this, I’m going to give it its own line:
Egg collection is Friday.
Whoo hoo! Whatever universe badgering/candle lighting/magic charm casting shizz you guys did on Monday… keep it up!