Sunday Is The New Thursday

So, because my clinic is so damn popular and because there are so many women currently cycling there, I’ve been assigned a “New Day 3.” While in reality the 3rd day of my current cycle was yesterday, according to my clinic, Sunday will become my real cd 3 for the IVF cycle. This is because with so many women they want to make sure that there won’t be too many having retrievals on the same day. Starting last night I reduced my Lupron dosage to .1cc and will add the stims on the 29th.

I figure, what’s another 2 days at this point? Plus, D & I are going to see Fountains of Wayne Saturday night, and I was worried about getting home before 11 to do the shots. I figure since I’ll only be taking the Lupron it won’t be as big a deal if we’re a few minutes late. And I’m not really worried that it affects the outcome of my cycle – I know I’m being suppressed and that the docs know what they’re doing. But if anyone has any reassuring research on the subject I’d certainly love to read it.

Meanwhile, I refilled my Lupron prescription because on Sunday I’ll have been taking it for 14 days and will therefore be out of needles – if not the actual medication. I can’t believe I’ve been doing this for 2 weeks already! For some reason, time is flying. I guess I’ve been fortunate in that I haven’t had any side effects. Well, that’s not exactly true. I’ve been consistently waking up in the middle of the night to take off my shirt because I’m so bloody hot, but maybe that’s just because my apartment suddenly heats up and not because I’m having a hot flash? And the fact that I started crying because this story on the radio made me cry because, well for no reason really, is probably an indication that I have some hormones running through me. I think the tears stemmed from missing my mom, or wanting to be a mom, or who the hell knows? There really wasn’t a reason. So yeah, maybe I’ve had some side effects.

In other matters, my boss has a new favorite phrase, which, I swear, he says daily. When we’re trying to prevent someone from getting too attached to an idea or too attached to a specific actor or whatever instead of saying, “getting too attached,” he says, “getting pregnant.” As in, “We better find out now if Diva is a possibility before the director gets pregnant with that cast.”

I know it’s a metaphor. I know it makes sense linguistically. But every time he says it I squirm.

Hopefully, one of these days, I’ll be squirming because it will be me who’s actually pregnant.