I’m sitting in my car in the rain with moist chalk in my undies, waiting for the furncance cleaner to show at our rental so I can go home and change my underwear for the 3rd time today before hitting the road. It is that kind of Friday as I chicken peck out this post on my iPhone (hence the horrible spelling and grammar).
Busy few days coming up – heading to the family cabin outside of Anchorage this afternoon. I’d like to say we will be relaxing but nope. I have a fundraising workshop to attend as part of my board duties on a nonprofit on Saturday. Husband plans to hang out at the cabin and do schoolwork. Then home on Sunday to frantically prepare for teaching on Monday morning before my flight on Monday afternoon.
That brings me to the moist chalk/cement in my undies. We are on for a natural transfer on Tuesday. It has snuck up on me and I’m cautiously optimistic. I’m not sure why more folks don’t opt for a natural transfer instead of the hormone scheduled one. Granted, scheduling is easier logistically though a natural transfer involves no progestrone in oil shots. Instead, I have vaginal inserts of progesterone that keeps on giving all day. It is messy as fuck but less painful. My other transfers were not natural since it wasn’t offered at our previous clinic.
I feel the hope building in me that this will work. If I had no hope, I wouldn’t be doing all of this. So here we are, a few days away from our first transfer of our 3rd IVF cycle and trying to keep my emotions in check. My husband cannot come to Seattle with me [we are broke asss poor (fertility treatments will do that to you] and someone needs to hold down the fort and go to work). I won’t be alone though. One of my best friend lives in Seattle so I’ll have two days to bum around with her. Soak in some much needed friend time and not at work time.
And now I wait for the damn furnace guy in uncomfortably moist panties. 🙄