I think not. After all, I was awake at 3:30, despite the Ambien I took. I never take Ambien, and so I was really hoping for eight hours of dreamless oblivion after peeing on another stick and confirming that even the most active, desperate imagination could not conjure up a second line. I have never seen that second line. To me, it is a jackalope. In any case, I took an Ambien after drinking two XL glasses of wine, which had me good and silly after several weeks off. And it still didn't work. Story of my life these days. I tried everything is my current refrain.
Today, I dragged my puffy eyes into the RE clinic, where I managed to maintain a stoic facade, never mind that it was betrayed by said puffy, puffy lids (which each contributed an additional five pounds of bloat to my body) as well as my bloodshot irises. Well, as I always tell myself whenever I'm spreading my legs for yet another person to have a look around, they've seen worse. Also, they're the ones who signed up for this job. Should I ever make it into a delivery room, I will not be the least bit perturbed when I shit all over the place. Make a note.
Anyway, today I saw the mustachioed RE and his trusty sidekick, the brand-new RE Fellow, who at this point mainly just sits there and nods emphatically from time to time. Their assessment of the cycle? They don't know why it didn't work. That's their consistent refrain. I wish I could pull that shit at my job. So, Motel Manager, why didn't project XYZ get done? Oh, there's really no way of knowing; we could try again, or maybe do a different project instead.
I inquired about immune issues, which they don't really put any stock in. I inquired about whether I might have secretly bad eggs - eggs that look appealing but are really deeply flawed in the manner of a tragic hero who will be his own undoing - and they said maybe yes, or maybe it's the sperm, or maybe both, or maybe neither.
The good news is that I am permitted to move ahead with an FET. I was afraid they'd make me wait, and I am in the zone and don't want to wait. I have one frozen good blast, and 12 embryos at the pronuclear stage. But the fact that I have a very poor record of moving good-looking day-3 embryos to the blast stage concerns all of us. The question of how many to thaw was raised. I asked if they'd thaw them all. They laughed oh, ho ho, no, but frankly my current hit rate probably isn't even 1 in 12, so maybe we should go for it? They'll raise the issue of how many to thaw at the team meeting on Tuesday. And then I shall receive a Letter. With a Recommendation.
The nurse then tried to tell me that I couldn't start right away because the lab is down in mid-August, but I sent her back to the mustachioed RE with the edict to find a solution. It was a George-Bush-style managerial moment, and I am not proud. But unlike our president, I produced good results. Tonight I start taking birth control pills to delay my period (which, if it's like the last time, will resemble the crime scene of a mass killing) for a week, which will in turn allow me to do an FET in late August, when the lab is back up. I'll start Estrace around 8/1. Something different! The thrill!
For now, it is time to drink. After all, it's 4:30. Bon soir, my nonexistent readers.