Whew, it’s been a wild ride over the last 24 hours. Our date with the RE got off on to a rocky start thanks to my forgetfulness and lack of precision. When I arrived at University I realized that I had forgotten my cell phone, which did not bode well for arranging a pick up location with R. I gave her what I thought were detailed instructions to my coordinates, and then dashed to the locale with 2 minutes to spare. I waited. And waited. And panicked. I ran through a number of scenarios in my head: the car was blocked by double parked cars in the office lot (I TOLD her to check before leaving!); she was in an accident; her mother’s plane crashed. Note how the scenarios get progressively more macabre. Finally, I decided to attempt to use University wi-fi to call her on Skype. Nothing says “ready for motherhood” like standing in the pouring rain holding a MacBook and shouting into it. After five minutes of confusing iterations of “where are you?” and “where are YOU?” we finally realized that there were two turnabouts on Pacific Ave, and we were both waiting at what we thought was the only turnabout. Whoops, my bad! When R rolled up to the curb I shoved the laptop into my backpack and clamored into the car in tears. My fear was bested by R’s, whose own scenarios lept from ‘she’s in a meeting and lost track of time’ to ‘she’s had a seizure and is in the ER.’ We laughed at our worst case scenarios while we sped (gently) to the office and shouted at other drivers who dared to delay us. We were a hot mess.
We arrived approximately on time (if you ignore the instructions to arrive 15 minutes before the appointment), sweaty and panicked. But soon after entering the uber sleek offices of PNWF my heart decelerated. In the past I’ve failed to appreciate the smiling faces and soft rock that greeted me upon stepping off the elevator, but this time I soaked it all in. Sure, I’ll give you One more night if you’ll overlook my tardiness! Thankfully, we were promptly escorted back to the RE’s office, and were actually permitted to speak before undressing. Let me tell you, establishing rapport before asking a patient to disrobe goes a long way with me. Dr. S was very patient and kind, and sensitive to our concerns about balancing cost-effectiveness with minimally invasive care. She reminded us that our probability of success with each IUI is about 20%, so it’s perfectly reasonable to expect to try 6 times. While this was not exactly fantastic news from a financial perspective, it was somehow reassuring. After a long chat, she did an ultrasound of R’s uterus and ovaries, and everything looked great, so she gave her an injection of hcg to coax the ovary into releasing the plump healthy egg we saw on the monitor.
We returned this morning for the IUI, which only took 5 minutes, compared to the 45 minute torture session R endured last month. Cycle 5 is shaping up perfectly, and I’m looking forward to the best birthday present ever.
P.S. Am I the only person who gets the White Rabbit’s song stuck in her head when running late?