Don’t despair –
my tireless rants about working mothers are behind us, and now we can return to
all-pelvis-all-the-time programming. So. Where were we?
Well, I’ve
finished with my incessant sobbing for now and moved on to every
other day wandings and blood draws, because
we all know how funny those are.
Here’s where we’re at:
Thursday, Day 10: wanding
by the tech who seems uncomfortably excited about my ovaries and tells me
as much with a very thick Boston accent, while I’m restrained in stirrups and
her arm is halfway inside me. Buh-yuuu-ti-fuhl
ovuhrees! Goohr-jus! A few follicles on the right, one on the left, none
big enough to trigger ovulation.
Saturday, Day 12: welcome to your weekend, please proceed
to the far-away-weekend-clinic-location whose waiting room does have better magazines. And, apparently, Jack Hanna on TV,
which was compelling enough that as we left, C informed me that he is going to
become a doctor for turtles. NOTED.
Meanwhile,
behind door number 2: follicles growing ever so slowly, largest at 15 mm, still
not big enough to trigger. Which is sad because if there’s one truth in this
world it is that I long for my monthly injection of Chinese hamster ovary. Return on Monday. Third time’s the
charm?
