Under Strict Doctor's Orders...

So yesterday Matt & I had a follow-up visit with my RE (Reproductive Endocrinologist -- see, I'm even learning the abbreviations of my new vocabulary!)...anyways, the visit was to discuss Tuesday's procedure and how everything looked and his thoughts, etc.

I actually got kind of anxious about it - having this hysterscopy was really the last "leg", if you will, of this marathon of testing to get ready just to start invitro. I have this horrible habit of playing out worst-case scenarios in my mind (over and over and over) so that way if it actually happens, I figure it won't be so bad because I've "mentally" prepared for it. Yeah, it's kind of compulsive and slightly disturbing, at least to me.

So I had already (in my head) pictured him telling me that the large polyp was cancerous - even though there is less than a 1% chance of that little scenario; or that something else was amiss and not good for baby (uhh, remember he had JUST told me on Tuesday that everything minus the polyp and cyst looked great...but what if he was lying b/c he didn't want to upset an already emotional patient right after she was coming out of a drug haze??); and there were a couple of others but I'll spare you the psychosis that is my brain...

Well, Dr. H was pretty busy yesterday (granted we did have just about the last appt of the day & you know those are always guaranteed to be running late - but thanks to Katy contstruction, I was about 10 minutes late myself) & the waiting room was pretty full. So of course, me being the people-watcher I am, found it fascinating to look around and try to guess why the people were there - there were the kind of obvious ones (let's just say more "mature" couples) but infertility isn't something you can easily pick out. That's what I have learned about this whole thing: infertility doesn't know race, economic status, gender, etc - we come from all walks of life with all different types of stories.

I will say most of the time I feel kind of funny in that waiting room - like I don't belong. Maybe because I never imagined I would be there -- I don't know why I thought I would be so special - it could happen to anyone. And also because I know people must see ME and think, whoa, "what's the 18 year old doing in here?" (I look young, like really young, for my age (29) - and I don't help the situation by usually wearing a baseball cap & work out clothes with very little make-up when I go to my appointments. I know, I know - one day I will appreciate it but right now it's just annoying).

Now, let me just preface this next story by saying I have the most supportive & loving husband in the world; he has done everything that has been asked of him, all sorts of bloodwork, multiple "samples", the works. And he has done it (mostly) with a smile on his face. And with very little complaining.

So I chalk up this next incident to simply just being a guy, whatever that means.

So, we are sitting there & I am people-watching and making a list for my very important trip to Target, and the doctor is running late (it's now about 4:20ish & our appt was at 4:00) - Matt & I are chatting and then suddenly he says,

"Well, would it be okay if I left you at 4:45pm if we aren't done yet?"

My head spun around like the freaking exorcist, and I said "WHAT?" (really, probably too loudly for the somewhat confined area we were in)

"Well, my hair cut is at 6:00 with Miss Becky & I don't know how long it is going to take me to get to Sugar Land at this time of day." (And this was all said with the innocence of a 5 year old with an impish smile on his face)

And then he saw my face.

And then he realized the ooops.

He knows me well enough that I have spun enough crazy scenarios in my head to have already turned myself into a dying cancer patient unable to ever bear children and leaving my husband a widower at the ripe age of 30.

So he tried to backtrack but too late... I was off and running.

"If you even think you are going to leave early to go get a flipping haircut, you have lost your ever-loving mind," I angrily whispered (and somehow my vocab when I am pissed reverts back to phrases my mom would say, thus "the ever-loving" reference). "Did you forget that I just had surgery & that we are about to find out the results of this little fun waterboarding procedure & plan out our schedule if all goes well."

And that's all it took. One amazing thing about my husband is that he is able to say "sorry" faster than anyone I know. He has absolutely zero problem with admitting fault and, even better, when he says "Sorry", he actually means it. Me, on the other hand, not so quick to apologize even when I know I'm the one who screwed up - and even when I say sorry, I don't always truly mean it. I'm terrible.

So, he quickly apologizes, says he doesn't know what he was thinking & grabs my hand and squeezes it tenderly (nice move, Matt!). And crisis averted.

Seriously, guys -- what is with you and your heads???

I give you all this nonsense babble before because for all I had built this appointment up to be - and imagining it would take hours - all took place in about 10 minutes - and that's only b/c I had about a zillion more questions to ask the doctor for reassurrances, clarifications, etc (and he LOVES me for that, ha!)

Basically, we are under "strict doctor's orders" to do whatever it takes to de-stress this summer and START MAKING BABIES (well, the lab will be making the babies but whatever) IN SEPTEMBER!!! YAY!!!

Yup, we have the all-clear. Everything looks good - all my "stuff" is the right shape in all the right places, and my "cavity" (Dr. H's term for uterus) is completely clear and beautiful - well, he didn't say beautiful but I did.

So here we go! We could start whenever at this point but Matt & I feel like we need to take one last vacay before all the madness begins and so after summer seems appropriate. Honestly, if you know me at all, you know that I would start tomorrow - I absolutely HATE to wait on anything - but if God has taught me anything during these last 13-14 mos of testing is that patience is a good thing and impulsivity isn't always the best option.

I left that appointment on such a high. Now, we have a plan. I've always said that I can deal with it, just as long as I know what I am facing. And now, I know what I am facing. Thank you, God.

I know that everything that will happen once we officially kick this thing off won't be easy. I'm probably not going to feel stellar. My body will become bruised & beaten by the multiple injections. My stomach will probably bloat out to my fat pant size. My hormones will be off the charts. Matt will probably want to strangle me at some point.

And it may not even work.

But I can't think of that right now. All I can think of is that our amazing God is giving us a shot to turn our "coupledom" into a little family of three...or four...or well, forget it, I'm not counting higher than that. I refuse to be octo-mom. Or even quad-mom! ha.

But there's a chance. And a good one at that. 75-80% that we will get preggers the first time. I'll take them odds. Sure beats 0%.