Holy Crapolla. (Yes I understand that Crapolla isn't actaully a word)
This morning I sat in the IVF clinic with about 35 other women waiting to have our ultrasounds and blood work, since these appointments are first come first serve everyone get's there wicked early and then waits around so they can be the first ones in line. I have a different theory in round 3, go as late as possible and wait the shortest amount of time. It is working like a charm. Anyway back to the 35 and waiting, I pick up my number (not too unlike the deli counter) and address the crowd "Can anyone act as my sponsor, or does anyone else need one?" You always have to have an extra person with you and S couldn't make this one. So a young girl volunteers and we buddy up. She is super sweet and is the first positive person I've met this time. After our labs we head back to the exam rooms and have the wonderful magic wands do their magic. (On a side note, I had 23 eggs today that the doc could see - that is pretty good, and my E2 which was too high the other night is now stable) Then both of us meet with the doc -separately - and are told to proceed to pre-op.
Pre-op is a joke. You get your vitals taken, verify your address and religion, tell the head nurse you don't have any allergies to Latex, and then tell the Anesthesiologist all the same crap. But I digress, Pre-op at Walter Reed takes 2-3 hours. Seriously. So were back in another waiting room with about half of the women from the first one. And my peppy little sidekick pulls out her knitting bag and proceeds to knit a baby blanket. No kidding. She also manages to squeeze into our conversation that her husband is away right now, me and another lady both acknowlege that it is tough to go "it" alone, but peepy just smiles and says well, the baby will probably be due such and such a date so it is better if he is here for the birth. Me and 17.5 other women gasped.
It is like a groom seeing the bride before the wedding, counting your eggs before they surgically hatch them and shove them back in, Stepping on a crack and breaking God knows what.
A baby blanket, really.