I woke up at 5 am (thank you, kitty cat) and left the house at 10 to 6 to try to be the first person in the herd to get an ultrasound. I got to the office exactly one hour later. I was third in line. Third in the herd. The waiting room quickly filled up with women waiting either for blood to be drawn, or to have the magic wand up their whoo haahs. For some reason, his waiting room appears to often be populated with religious Jews and lesbians. Every once in a while, a fancy upper-something-side Manhattan lady comes in, too. I like testing my gaydar in the waiting room. It goes off quite often. By the time I came out after my ultrasound, the office was soo full, it looked like people waiting for a rock concert. This city is weird, I tell you.
After waiting another hour, I was called back into the hallway to sit in a chair, facing a wall of medical files. Some of them had ultrasound film sticking out of them. On a few I could see the patients’ names. There are literally thousands of files on that wall. All I could think was, how many of them got pregnant? How many of these ovaries and uteruses (uteri?) in the files eventually held fetuses that are now walking or crawling around?
Soon I was waist-down naked again, with freezing toes, waiting for the doctor. Dr. Mug is on vacation, so I met his partner, Dr. Otherguy. Doc Otherguy was not as funny as Dr. Mug, but soft-spoken and to-the-point. I have a 17mm follicle on my left ovary. So I’m going to take the trigger shot tomorrow (my 36th birthday, happy birthday to me) and have two insems one on Sunday morning and one on Monday morning.
I’m feeling really weird this time. Almost like I’m really about to lose my sh*t. Yesterday, I had some trouble with my insurance and my trigger shot and I ended up calling my honey at work in tears, so she could talk me down. That’s such a pre-menstrual thing for me to do. Yet I am pre-ovulatory. What gives? This morning as I was speed-walking to the doctor’s office, I had a rush of fear that I had had the sperm sent to the wrong street. I saw myself in some high-rise foyer pleading with the doorman to give me back my sperm. The whole idea of lesbians buying sperm is so innately funny that my stress is always curbed a little by a giggle. I’m going to call them to make sure they got it. If it actually happened, it would be equally hilarious and horrifying.
So even though I am an emotional wreck, I am feeling positive about Lefty. I need to. I’m hoping that the investment of doing two insems pays off as well. Dr. Otherguy used lower stats than Dr. Mug about using frozen sperm (8…10 percent chance, at best). Which I am going to choose to ignore. Look at my son. He was concieved via intravaginal insemination using frozen sperm at home. It’s time to get pregnant, folks.