For reasons it has declined to share with me, my body decided to get this party started nearly a full week earlier than we had anticipated. Not that I'm complaining. It just made things a little more exciting.
So, last night, I called the clinic's answering service and said, "Ok, I'm on Day 1. Now what do I do?" (Nothing like having random strangers, like answering service people and accidental blog readers, knowing exactly when your period starts!) The nice man took a message and said the clinic would call back this morning.
The phone rang at 8:20. "Yes, you should come in for your Day 2 bloodwork and scan. We have an 8:45 appointment open." At that point, we were still in our pajamas. The clinic is across town, in a touristy area on the other side of what, on a weekday, is often gruesome downtown traffic. It's normally about a half hour trip, all told. "Ok," I said. "We'll be there."
I am, fortunately, well practiced in multitasking, and despite the early Sunday hour, I managed to avoid brushing my eyeballs and putting my contact lenses on my teeth. I'm not sure Atomic fared as well, but somehow we managed to dress ourselves and get in the car.
And then . . . wow. There was nobody on the roads. It's Sunday morning, 8:30 a.m., and this ain't too much of a churgoin' town. We made the trip in 15 minutes flat.
The scan showed 4 little antral follicles -- not great for a normal person, but pretty damn encouraging for someone with scrambled eggs, and significantly better than the lone follicle I had on day 2 of my IUI cycle.
So, tonight I start injecting myself. Two different meds, three times a day. I feel good. I feel ready, mentally and physically. I'm prepared for disappointment, but hopeful nonetheless. Let's see what happens.