Sunday, January 16, 2011

Ocho days a week

We have booked a trip to Puerto Rico at the beginning of February.  Handily enough, it happens to follow right behind the end of our two-weeks wait, and we're relieved that we have something to look
forward to, no matter how it turns out.

Last Sunday, we rejoiced at that precious egg and dot's appearance.  We expected to go to the clinic early Saturday, Heather's 13th day, but didn't get the sign.  Immediately the spectre of last fall's failed ovulation presented itself, and we worried if we would be able to send the tank back in time.  Sunday morning, Heather got up early, peed, and fell asleep while the monitor processed the results.  When the egg and dot appeared, I couldn't believe our luck.  I giddily texted Nurse Nina, then we zipped over to the clinic.  I warmed the vial between my breasts (feeling that it was less disturbing than my armpit and also more apropos to our baby-making circumstances) while we went over Heather's charts with Nina.

Next, satisfied that my own baby-supporting organs had served their not-intended-by-god purpose, Nina shifted us to the exam room, settling Heather on the table.  Much to our delight, she said that Heather's cervix looked perfect, and we duly documented it with Heather's iPhone 4.  It was as though she had given Heather an A+ on an exam, only this one required less memorization and more leg-spreading.  So there, Chinese lady.

The experience thereafter was less pleasant, as Heather had dreadful cramps, covering her face with her arms to get through the pain.  She was a trooper, though, and had the spirit to bitch mightily when we got home about how the Best Buy delivery crew still hadn't arrived with our appliances.  I was glad to keep her ensconced on the couch while I called 800 numbers and store managers to convey her displeasure.  That is one other handy tip: if you are anticipating a two-week-wait (TWW, per the Cryobank ladies), go ahead and make arrangements for household renovations or repairs.  If you have to reassess your kitchen cabinets, all the better.

Monday we were back for another low-key session.  The roads were snowy, so we were all but alone in the clinic with Nina again.  My mammary glands did their toasty duty once again.

This time, Heather's cervix was closer to an A-, but that was expected and, luckily, the insemination was less painful to Heather when Nina inserted the tube into her os on its own, following it with the syringe.  The tilt of Heather's uterus makes angling the tube, like the speculum, a difficult prospect, full of frustration for the angler and impatient discomfort for Heather.

Only... eight more days till we test.  Good thing the counter-top guy is coming Monday.

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