My clinic didn’t call today.
That’s the first time they’ve ever missed a really important call like this. I called around 4 p.m. and left a message, but I find voicemail is a bit of a black hole there. I’ll call again first thing tomorrow- at least the advantage to dealing with a clinic is they’re open seven days a week!
This has, of course, led to some ridiculous anxiety-driven thoughts along the lines of, “THEY DIDN’T CALL BECAUSE THERE WAS NOTHING TO FREEZE AND THEY DIDN’T WANT TO GIVE ME BAD NEWS, SO THESE EMBRYOS CURRENTLY FLOATING AROUND IN MY UTERUS ARE OUR ONLY HOPE AND WHAT IF RATHER THAN BEING JEDI TWINS THEY’RE ALREADY DEAD??”
Even I can see that this is unlikely. The nurses at my clinic spend every single day giving people bad news- that the beta was negative, that the eggs didn’t fertilize, that the f/s didn’t find any sperm, that it will be a day three transfer. They’re hardly going to shy away from a phone call because it might upset the patient.
Much more likely is the fact that we’re currently experiencing a bit of a weather event in my neck of the woods, and a number of the nurses live outside the city. I bet they were busy and short-staffed today, and my doctor probably ran two hours late as per usual, and my chart just slipped through the cracks in the chaos.
I would like to know where we stand. If for no other reason than to help me get back to sleeping through the night again.
Last night was the third night in a row where I woke up in the wee hours, but well before 3:30 a.m. (which is usually the danger zone for my body deciding that I’ve had enough sleep and should just get up), and then tossed and turned in bed for a couple of hours before finally drifting off again. Last night was particularly disrupted: we had E’s coughing fits (we discovered last night he has croup again), combined with our cats deciding that they both wanted to sleep on the bed, and the resulting territorial standoff which required much meowing and clambering on us, combined with E. wheezing so badly from the croup that we had to check on him (and then I had to check on him again when he stopped wheezing so loudly we couldn’t hear him any longer from our room down the hall).
No one was bright eyed and bushy tailed this morning. Except maybe the blast twins, but it’s hard to tell with them, being but tiny bundles of cells floating in my uterus.