It’s Showtime for Donor Cycle #2!

I’ve been waiting and waiting for this cycle to start. When I am in the midst of a cycle, I have a job. I have pills to take. I have a schedule to keep. I am hoping that it works! Outside of that, I just wait around. I hate waiting.

About 10:30 pm Monday night, I was in the bathroom that’s adjoined to our bedroom. Suddenly, I hollered, “Oh my God!” So Chris comes flying into the bathroom, probably thinking some sewage snake from our nightmares was coming out of the toilet at me, and hollers back, “What? What happened?”

I held up the tissue paper in disbelief. “I got my period! Look!”

He wrinkled his nose. “Ew. What is wrong with you?”

I flushed the toilet and wash my hands, completely oblivious to my marriage faux-pas: Don’t show your husband tissue paper with blood on it while sitting on the toilet.  He doesn’t appreciate it as much as you do.

“It’s show time! I can’t believe it’s here!” I cheered.

Tuesday morning, I called the clinic in Texas and we got orders sent to my local clinic for a baseline ultrasound and blood work. It was snowing like crazy here, so unfortunately I had to schedule it for the next day. We wouldn’t be able to book the flight, or know any dates as far as transfer until the clinic in Texas received the ultrasound results.

Wednesday morning, I headed to my clinic to a chorus of “Welcome back, Risa! Nice to see you again!” by the various nurses and receptionists. After a previous hiatus from the clinic, I wrote about how (dare I say it) good it felt to be back in the clinic, where I know what to expect, and where I feel comfortable. Yesterday was no exception. I know it’s weird, and if you don’t want to be friends anymore after reading this I understand, but laying on the exam table, staring up at the monitor with a vag cam between my legs, there is a certain excitement I always feel. I know now things are different, and we are no longer measuring follicles, but I remember that feeling waiting for how many follicles are mature, and trying to gauge those little black circles on the screen, thinking, Oh there’s one! Hey, look at the size of that sucker!

It reminds me of that cult mentality. You know, you hear stories of girls brought against their will to a location that is foreign and scary to them. And at first, they don’t like it there. But then, as time goes on, they not only become used to it, they grow to rather like it. And then, after a few years, they eventually come to think of it as normal, as a part of their lives. Hell, they come to depend on it. And yes, I realize I just compared an infertility clinic to a cult, but you have to admit, it’s a good comparison.

Anyway, the clinic ended up calling back with the results later that afternoon and I am starting the estrogen pills and patches today. I will go in for another ultrasound next Friday. We went ahead and booked the plane tickets, hotels and rental car, which is kind of nerve-wracking because we are banking on the fact that all the ultrasounds will come out smoothly and there will be no delay since we now have non-refundable plane tickets.

But, assuming all goes as plan (which it will), the transfer will be happening March 25th! We again have to be there a week early for my last ultrasound and Chris’s appointment on the day of the egg thaw.

This is really happening!