Here goes nothing...

Today is the day.  We've finally arrived at CD1.  While we held out the slightest bit of hope that we wouldn't actually have to go through with this and that the Clo.mid I took for the challenge test would actually work this time, last night we resigned ourselves to the reality that this is really happening.  To us.  It was quite evident by bedtime that *spot* was indeed that tell-tale precursor to the lovely, uninvited AF, and I started psyching myself up for "the phonecall."  (You may recall that I suffer from telephobia.) 

At IVF class, we were instructed to call our assigned IVF nurse on CD1 to get the ball rolling on the cycle and our meds ordered.  (We were given prescriptions for BCP and antibiotics that day, so they're all ready to go.)  So, now I just need to find the perfect time to call.  I figured I'd end up having to  leave a message, just like the other ten times I've called the facility.  But that's okay with me.  I understand and appreciate, even, the fact that they want to pull my chart and be able to look at it while they're talking to me.  By 9:15, I had summoned up the courage to make the call.  *Just for the record, I was not so chicken that I couldn't do it, it's just that there is no turning back once this call is made.  There's a lot riding on this phonecall.* I dialed the number and listened to the pleasant voice review the options:

If you are a doctor or a doctor's representative, press 1.  Nope, that's not me.
If you are a new patient and would like to schedule a new patient appointment, press 2.  That's not me, either.
If you are an established patient and would like to reschedule an appointment, press 3.  What?  No!  I just wanna talk to my IVF nurse, Kelli!
If you are calling to inquire about test results, press 4.  Um, I'm getting nervous, here...
If you would like to schedule surgery, press 5.  I'd like to have this overwith, please.
If you have questions about your account or would like to pay your account balance, press 6.  Uh-oh, we're running out of numbers.
If you'd like to speak to someone in medical records, press 7.  I don't know.  Is that where Kelli is?
If you have questions about our office location or need directions, press 8.  Don't need directions...I've been there.
To speak to an operator, press 0.  Well, there you have it.  Nine stinkin' options, and not one of them is the one I need!

I hung up and redialed 3 more times to make sure I didn't miss an option that I needed.  (That's how I got most of these down word-for-word.  A couple of them are just close to the actual message.)  I finally gave up and pressed '0.'  I then explained that I was calling my IVF nurse to report CD1.  The nice lady on the phone took my name and contact information and said she'd pull my file and have Kelli call me back in a little while.  Two hours later, she did!

And we are a go.  She's placing my prescription order, so the pharmacy will be contacting me either today or tomorrow.  I start BCP on Wednesday, and J and I both start an antibiotic on Wednesday as well.  I will go for a suppression check on 10/28 and start stims on 10/30 (which just happens to be the anniversary of when J and I met...aww.)  I'm thankful I won't have to leave my students in the hands of a substitute for their Halloween party (while it's not a very taxing day curriculum-wise, I never feel comfortable leaving subs to manage special occasions), and I'm doubly thankful that my first monitoring appointment will be on Election Day--so I won't even have to take time off for that one!

I can't believe this is all happening.  We've made a plan to have the parents over tomorrow night for dinner to break the news to them.  They knew this was our best shot at having a family, but none of them know we've actually been to the doctor and started the process.  We'd have kept it a secret, but J doesn't want me to drive the long distance alone to monitoring appointments (my mom is retired and can most likely accompany me), and his mom recently moved in with us.  I don't want her to think I'm shooting up or something if she sees all the injection paraphernalia. 

Now, I suppose, I just wait.  Wait to spend all my money.  Wait to endure what promises to be a torturous week of AF.  Wait to see that glimmer of hope that this may actually work and I could be using LOTS of thos built-up sick days next school year.  Dare I say I'm just the teensiest bit...excited? 

Hugs and baby dust to all,