Sarah McLachlan's Wait. Couldn't find a good video, but the music is still great to read by!
Upfront warning, this is a long one! I haven't blogged for over a week (other than show-and-tell) so gotta catch up!
This upcoming Sunday, the CO Bloggers are getting together to see Sex and the City. I'm bummed that I can't hang out with all these amazing women, as I will be at a friend's wedding If you happen to be in Denver that day and want to join them, send an e-mail to Lori. I didn't wait long after the movie's release and went yesterday to a matinee. It was fantabulous!
The only thing I regret is that I didn't go when I was in Manhattan on Thursday night -- I had a girl's night out that night with work friends, but since one of the women had never been to NYC before, we opted to sightsee, plus we had an early meeting Friday, so a midnight showing would have been hard to manage, BUT it would have been a once-in-a-lifetime blast too. All over Manhattan, there were groups of women looking more stylish than I ever have in my life. I noticed lots of women were wearing bright pink stilettos (is that a thing? Maybe I missed that episode...but I figured, what else could it be for!).
I'm now on Facebook. I was partially inspired by Mel's post Facebookiquette, and partially inspired by all the younger people at my company who are into social networking. Send me an e-mail if you want to find me there.
I am so not wanting to blog about infertility because it reminds me that my story is not leading to a happy ending as quickly as I wished. But here goes.
Our Monday IUI almost didn't happen. For those of you lucky enough to be uninitiated into the IUI routine, husband arrives at set time to give donation, (or he does it at home and then has to keep it warm on the drive there by placing it in the armpit, an imaginably awkward driving position). Then wife arrives 90 minutes later for the insemination.
So, GS was in the RE's office, sample in armpit, and they had him in the waiting room, but apparently the embryologist didn't know he was waiting, so she called me.
Embryologist: Your husband isn't here, if he's not here soon we'll have to cancel.
Me: He should be there by now, he left 40 minutes ago and it's a 10-minute drive. Maybe something happened on his way there (I'm thinking he got pulled over!). Isn't there anything you can do to help us out?
Embryologist transferred me to a nurse.
Me: Is there anything you can do to help us out? What if you thaw our frozen sample?
Nurse: We have to thaw and process and that takes 90 minutes. The earlies we would have you in is 1pm.
Me: I have to jump on a plane that leaves at 3pm. Is there any way you can accommodate us any earlier??!
Nurse: No. We have to cancel you.
Me: Oh. (shocked and speechless)
When they finally realized he was there, they sent him home and told him that I said it was OK. I didn't so much say that.
GS was pissed and swore we would never ever go back to The Palace for anything, no matter what, after that situation. After $4K of injectibles and $600 of acupuncture, mind you. I agreed, but I wasn't in the mood to be upset. We regrouped. GS suggested putting the "sample" in a turkey baster and squeezing it in. Seriously. I'm like, you're kidding, right? He said, no. We settled on trying to do it natural (i.e. no turkey baster), and just then the phone rang. Another nurse called, apologized profusely, and asked if I could come in at 11. I said yes.
When I arrived, the nurse was super nice, super apologetic, and said that the first nurse I'd spoken to didn't realize the situation. I'm so used to the "wham-bam-thank-you-mam" 3-minute ultrasounds, that I was surprised she was super chatty and took her time to make conversation, reiterate their dedication to helping us get pregnant, and apologize about 20 more times.
So that was that.
On the upside, NYC was great. I went out on the town three nights in a row and <holding head down in shame> gave into peer pressure and had a few drinks. I justified it by telling myself that the eggs were already created, and until the embies implant, they don't get any nutrients from my blood. To my credit, I nursed the hell out of my cocktails. It's all for the best, since I can't hold my liquor anyway. I made the mistake of saying the word "titty bar" when describing why I liked Denver better than Tampa (as in, I had to pass five titty bars on my way to work every day in Tampa), and the look on my co-workers' faces made me thankful I wasn't drinking more and saying worse.
In NYC, I called Cornell to see if they couldn't squeeze me in that week for a consult. Since I was there and all. They could not.
Tomorrow is my appointment with Dr. Swanson from Conceptions. It took me four hours on Sunday to gather up all my IF-related medical records and fill out their 20-page new patient forms.
As you can see, I am not considering myself to be in a true 2-week-wait . If only 1 in 10 of my eggs are good, then with only two mature eggs, my chances are 20% at best. So I'm better off emotionally just focusing on the next steps.
