…to see if I’ve got any more follicles than I had on Wednesday.
I do love coming to the hospital in the morning. Especially now that the huge atrium is decorated for Christmas.
I sat in the bloodwork room and folded myself in half to relieve the pressure on my left side and my low back. The other woman in the waiting room asked if I was ok and we chatted. It was so wonderful to break the silence and share experiences with a stranger, but an IVF sister.
… the ultrasound tech did not give me hope. I can’t believe my left ovary is producing the biggest follicle which cannot be fertilized unless it is surgically removed. My right ovary is the one that isn’t encumbered by endometriosis and it has full access to the clean Fallopian tube.
There is such a mystery to this process of life.
The giant manger scene shines above as I walk to the ultrasound office. The angel’s light illuminates her wings. I stood beneath the manger and spoke to Mary. Please Mother. Please.
I knew this process would be difficult. I was hoping I’d be different. I was hoping for easy. What I wish though moreover is that this process does not age me in a way that makes me appear harried and haggered. I don’t want to carry a burden of infertility in lines on my face and grey hairs. Life will do that to me in its own time. Maybe this is vain. But it’s the truth in what I’m thinking right now.