I was on the aircoach returning from a business trip on Thursday evening when G, the embryologist called. “Can you talk?” “Not so much, but I can listen.” So, he explained that the only one of my donors who was really available was – my number one choice. Talk about expectation management.
“Go for it,” I replied in eavesdrop-neutral mode, asking if he needed email confirmation. None required. When I think how accustomed I have become over the years to covering my ass with email in my professional life, this seems a bit risky (for both clinic and patient) but that’s the way G rolls, obviously.
One more hurdle crossed then. I’ve just had another look at my donor’s profile and am very happy with my choice but not getting emotionally invested until there’s a good reason for doing so.
I’ll be away for the weekend on a trip to some islands with friends and a larger group in mid-June. This will probably coincide with starting the pill and kicking the whole IVF thing off. Taking the pill is super-manageable compared to having to surreptitiously sniff a nasal spray three times a day or inject yourself on a ferry surrounded by people who don’t know your plans, so the timing is excellent. It will be my last hurrah until we see where we’re at in July.
As things stand, I’m booked to fly to a 40th birthday party that falls perfectly in the days between egg collection and transfer. None of my cycle dates can be pinned down until I know when day 1 is, of course. No point at all in stressing about how that’s going to work at this stage.
All that remains for now is to get the meds in. There are visitors staying in the house at the moment, so I’ve put off ordering the meds for fear of awkward questions about Gonal F boxes in the salad compartment. Once I get the drugs in, I guess I’ll be in limbo until the middle of next month.
Egg transfer really does seem a long way off right now.