Saturday, December 29, 2012

At least someone is happy to hear that I got my period: cycle 2, day 1


But seriously. Who do you call when you get your period[1]? Who is genuinely excited to hear that you are shedding your uterine lining? Absolutely no one because that would be weird. The fertility clinic nurse, that’s who. For the unwanded uninitiated, here’s the deal: as soon as I get my period, no matter where I am, I am instructed to call the nurse, immediately (cut to me in an office stairwell at 9 am, hand over muffled mouth and phone). And there’s no other way to describe it – when she calls me back, she is legit cheerful. Her emotion is so unmoored from reality – hello I am still so not pregnant – that I can’t help but audibly giggle on the other end of the phone.

It’s not that she’s thrilled to hear that I’m still barren[2], it’s that she knows that I now get to embark on another glorious round of Clomid. That, undeterred, I get to try again. That I now have another chance at that FX for a BFP on your HPT! baby. That once more, my hopes can be raised unreasonably high for approximately two weeks only to hit a crippling low shortly thereafter. It’s a rollercoaster, people.

Even my own mother was not this excited when, at the ripe old age of 14, I joined the lady club. You’ve reached a real milestone! is what she could have said, before taking me out for a martini and buying me condoms treating me to a PG rated movie. Instead? We spent 90 minutes  - I, in a fit of excruciating teen angst, her, probably wondering how much therapy would set us back financially - on a family vacation in Peru, screaming at one another through a hotel bathroom door as I cried my eyes out over having to (wait for it) put in a tampon. Oh dear. If only I had known then the transvaginal ultrasounds of my future...

But I digress. At least there's this. Thanks for the irrational cheerleading, fertility-clinic-nurse-lady!



[1] The transition from an entry exclusively showcasing decadent baked goods to my pelvis is SEAMLESS. Just seamless. I try my best to please you, anonymous interweb people.
[2] At least that’s what my rational brain tells me. My rational brain also tells me that she doesn’t work on commission. Wait, does she? She doesn't, right?

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