Tada!

All last week when I’d leave work and walk across the plaza I’d have to stroll by the spectacle that was David Blaine and his silly “Drowned Alive” fishbowl. Last night in an attempt to break the world record, he apparently held his breath for 7 minutes, 8 seconds. People might think this is a daring feat, but I say p’shaw. I feel like I’ve been holding my breath for 2 weeks straight.

A few minutes ago, I finally exhaled. The IVF nurse called me with fertilization results. Yes – a nurse called me – not my RE. And, she called with actual fertilization results. Relief, hope and maybe some excitement seem to be washing over me. It’s pretty promising: of the 19 eggs retrieved, 1 was immature. They used ICSI on the 18 remaining and 17 fertilized. The nurse said I could open my own kindergarten.

So now, I wait. They won’t call me until the morning of the designated transfer day. It may be a day 3 transfer (Thursday) or it may be a day 5 transfer (Saturday). But surely there should be 2 transferable embryos. This is the closest I’ve ever come to being pregnant. I don’t know about David Blaine, but right now I feel like I’ve performed the biggest magic trick of them all.