My next clinic visit is almost here.
I get to stride into the lobby, hand them my card, get asked, “insurance card, please”, then plop myself in a chair. Afterwards, a little buzzer summons me to get poked by a needle (blood draw).
Sometimes I get the nurse that hurts (please not tomorrow) and doesn’t know how to insert a needle. Usually I don’t.
Then I wait over an hour and half with the thirty to forty other women before I am summoned by the execution– I mean doctor — to my fate. He’ll check my blood hormones and if they’re good I get to sit in a seat with stirrups and be made more uncomfortable.
Then they decide my next doom day. It could be tomorrow, it could be next week. It’ll all depends on if I got a little egg ripening.
But I won’t get pregnant this cycle no matter what. Since time is running out for me on eggs, we’ve decided to fertilize them. If they divide well, they’ll be frozen and saved for the future.
It’s weird that you can freeze embryos, but not more complex lifeforms.
They’ll be emposicles?
I hope we get an embryo and I hope that embryo one day gets a chance to make a home in me and become an independent life one day.
As much as I want children, it sucks feeling like I’m farming my own body…