Intuition took over

Last night, I decided to calculate in my head when MBW's insemination would be. I was *feeling* like it was time, even though we weren't scheduled for another sono until Monday or sometime later, I couldn't remember. I looked at our old calendar (we still haven't put up the 2009 in the bathroom closet) and realized that she was on day 11. Pre-Clomid, day 10 to 11 was her ovulation day, so, for safety's sake, I asked her to do an OPK.

2 pink lines. Crap. Was this the first day of 2 pink lines or had we missed it? We quickly called the RE's office and asked them to come in. We were called back and scheduled for 9 am.

She did another OPK this morning and the test line was more faint. Was it because I'm cheap and buy the Target brand of OPK's instead of the CBE?

We get to the RE's office at UTSW, to find everyone standing on the first floor of the building. Apparently, a fire alarm went off around 8 and they were still trying to figure out what the cause was. While in the lobby, we started chatting with another couple who were also on their way up for an insemination. She and her husband were amazingly candid and cute. They showed us a picture of their daughter who was conceived a few years earlier through donor and IUI. It made me feel hopeful, even though, there we all were, standing on the first floor of the building, praying that our dethawing samples were ok. Also, it was odd, no one waiting at the RE's office had ever actually spoken to us, nor had we started any conversations. Sometimes it feels like there is this unspoken rule that you aren't supposed to acknowledge that anyone else there could be there because they too were unable to achieve one of nature's most common functions.

Dr. Patel, one of our MOST favorite doctors was the RE on call for the deed. He chatted with us as we went up stairs and we shared with him the more faint line this morning. He suggested we do one more OPK there to ensure that we didn't waste a sample. Their CBE OPK had two, very dark lines, so off we went!

I am not a particularly religious or spiritual person. I have the faith of a mustard seed and way to much Biblical/theological knowledge-the kind that makes you shake your head at all the celibate men who must have come up with the stuff- but again, not a lot of active spirituality. This time, after they left us in the room with MBW's feet and rear in the air, I was touching her stomach and I felt myself praying- please send us the spirit of a Baby A or a Baby R, or or or.

This broadcast has been temporarily interrupted by my MBW because I need to get in the shower so we can go to an uber birthday party, complete with an Elvis Costello tribute band and a keg of Guinness (though we will be keeping intake VERY low).