And on the 7th day He rested...

I read that Nicole Kidman and Keith Urban named their daughter Sunday (sp?), because as a childless couple Sundays were always the hardest. Sundays are family days and those were the days that felt the emptiest to them. I used to think Sunday was a really odd name for a child. Now I think it's the most beautiful name I've ever heard.

My Sunday is the 11th day of my hormone therapy. It's going well considering I've only had a couple of "episodes" this past week, the bloating and fatigue are manageable, and I'm shooting my injections like a seasoned diabetic. Side bar, to all those diabetics out there - you don't get nearly enough credit for dealing with what you do. I think about you as the clock ticks closer to 9 pm every night; as much as I dread and might complain about the shots, I don't have to do them for the rest of my life. So kudos!

Tomorrow we go back to the RE in the am to see how I've progressed since Friday. Friday I had about 4 tiny follicles, which is pretty minimal from what I understand, considering the fact I'm pumping myself with so much hormone that I should have enough follies to make Octomom envious. But at this point I'll take what I can get. I know it's still early and this is all a process so as long as I can keep it up, I'm keeping a positive attitude. So once my follies are mature enough and I have enough of them, I'll get my shot of Ovidrel (sp?) that will release my follies from my ovaries and then it's Go Time. At my u/s on Friday my RE also said my uterine lining is showing progress as well, another essential component for baby-making apparently. I'm learning a lot about the reproductive process. I've always had a fascination with anatomy and physiology so this is right up my alley. Literally. Ha.

But what I really wanted to mention in this blog is a situation I encountered yesterday. It almost caught me off guard, but I'm glad it came up b/c I know it will be the first of many. My BFF and I were at the home of an acquaintance of ours. She has a toddler and an infant and being on the subject of babies and pregnancies, she asked me the Thousand Dollar Question: So when do you think you might have a baby? Now, if my life were a sitcom this is where the scene would freeze and I would speak directly to the viewers, Zack Morris style. And the monologue would have gone something like this:

"She wants to know when I'm gonna have a baby! Well let's see, probably the minute my dormant ovaries WAKE THE F--- UP! But I don't know lady, you tell me. I know, let's all take a bet. Whoever gets the closest to the date the miracle of synthetic hormones work their magic gets a free box of Bravelle! And if you act in the next 5 minutes we'll throw in a free box of sharps!"

But what she heard was, well we tried for a year but I'm not ovulating so now I'm on hormone shots. I just started just before the New Year so it's still early. But we'll see what happens. Silence. Stunned silence. Then, oh well good luck! Well thanks, I can certainly use it. And that promptly ended any further prodding. So this is how I will handle it when, unsolicited, acquaintances ask about the state of our family planning. Ask and you shall receive I suppose. I figure this way any future inquiries are prevented. When's the last time you wanted to ask someone you don't know very well how their fertility treatments are going? Yeah, me either.