I am a specimen.

This morning I had to go to the Infertility Palace again just to "make sure" I wasn't taking my ovulation kit the wrong way (seriously?) and didn't already miss the big day of O.  Normally, I ovulate on Day 17...which is tomorrow and I tried explaining this to Doc, but she didn't want to "take a chance."  Obviously I didn't resist too much and went ahead.  Plus, who doesn't want to wake up at 5:50am on a Saturday?  

When I arrived I was ushered into a room to have bloodwork and ultrasounds taken immediately.  Lucky girl. I feel like a blood faucet lately.  Instead of "Hi, how are you," I'm just going to start holding my arm out because I'm pretty sure people only want my blood.  Or maybe I'm getting a complex. Just maybe.

I know that blood-letting is a necessary step for me because, well, they have no choice but to check my blood for all sorts of good stuff, but I can't help but HATE it. More and more each time. I think I'm programmed to rebel against the predictability.  Can't we switch things up once in a while?  Maybe try a leaching method?

I feel like such a specimen.  So much poking, prodding, talking about me in front of me. It's a strange world, this place of infertility.  A place where I need the doctors and nurses WAY more than they need me, so I have to put up with any old bedside manner they decide to throw my way.  And be grateful.  Which...ultimately I am. Very much so.

On the upside:

Tomorrow is natural IUI day, numero uno! I'm so excited! The doctor actually said, "wow, there it is!" when she saw my egg, so I'll take (what I can get) it as a good thing. Maybe it's the golden egg. We shall see!

Til tomorrow!

L