My clinic was supposed to call me the day AFTER retrieval and set up a time for me to come back and get implanted.
They didn't.
They were also supposed to call me with my "fertilization results."
Ditto on the didn't.
AAAAAAAAAaaaaargh!
After my third or eighteenth freakout meltdown, H called them yesterday. I left the house before he made the call, because I am a big chicken. Cluck, cluck.
This ended in a classic New York moment -- my husband hanging out the window calling out my name at the top of his lungs. (And yes, I had my cell phone. But where's the fun in that?)
So I implant on Monday.
And how many? I asked. What grade? What shape are they in? How many cells?
Um... replies H. I don't know.
AAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaargh.
Not that it matters, I tell myself. Not that it really impacts anything. I mean, it is what it is. Right? Knowing NOW isn't going to make it any easier (or harder) tomorrow.
(Anyone buying this?)
So H and I had a couple talks that we may not have needed to have. How many are we putting back? How many is too many? We do not want to reduce, but we had to talk about that, too.
WATCH. I'll have only one embie to put back.
Breathe.
Okay.
Until tomorrow...
Sunday, September 16, 2007
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4 comments:
Whenever I have SB call the clinic I give him a list -- numbered -- with space for each answer. If I didn't he'd find out everything except that for which he was supposed to call in the first place. Oy, but I love him and I get so upset I can't make those calls myself. Men are funny (haha). Good luck tomorrow. I hope your fert rate and number of embies available is beyond your hopes.
Wishing you more than one embie...
Wishing you lots of good luck! I would have killed my DH for not asking the right questions! haha . .. but I guess that's what they do! Hoping you have lots of embies!
Does H not understand how many people are hanging out for this information???
You will find out shortly, though. Best of luck for transfer.
Bea
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