Noah and I drove to Dr. N in complete silence.
We had felt disappointed at every other Dr. N appointment, so all I could do was hope that this day would be different. I was exhausted. I had spent most of the previous day crying and hadn’t slept much the night before. I kept wondering if the cyst was still there, and what we would do if it was. I wondered if my follicle count had dropped back down, or if the additional month of herbs and acupuncture had improved it. Wonder wonder hope wonder.
All I could think of in that moment was that we were driving. Then we would be parking. Then we would be in the office. Then I would do the ultrasound. One step at a time.
When we did the follicle count, I had nine. When we looked for the cyst, I had none. Nine follicles, no cyst. The tea Gilli had me on had worked. Eating loads of seaweed and healthy whole foods, burning moxa over my legs and belly, sleeping with a heating “pat” on my stomach—whatever it was, it had worked. We got the green light.
“You ready to do this?” Dr. N asked. He was much sweeter when he had good news. He was excited and could see that Noah and I were ready. I was calm, Noah was present, we were both focused. Game time.
Nurse Danielle accompanied us into the office where Dr. N went over the various contracts and authorizations. I had to sign something that acknowledged that I am a low responder to treatment and the chances of having no embryos to transfer back in are high. We designated the highest number of embryos we would want put in (3-4), and initialed that we understood various protocols and disclaimers. They ordered the medication and sent us home with an appointment the follow day for our “injection lesson.” I asked Nurse Danielle if the meds were made of bovine urine or something gross like that, and she looked at me with a straight face and said, “Actually, I’ve heard its made from the urine of post-menopausal nuns.”
And that was it.
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