Oh, how I wish that first-paragraph foreshadowing was a clever trick in order to surprise you. But no.
The past two times I've heard from my clinic (via phone, which only happens on days that I have a local monitoring appointment) they haven't called me until 6:00 p.m. That was not going to fly today. So, I emailed them at 12:45 asking if they had received the results from my local clinic. I also dropped a not-so-subtle hint that I would like to be called with my results ASAP. Apparently not-so-subtleness is not my strong suit.
At 4:00 p.m. I was at home, packed and ready to go. Just waiting on my clinic.
Should we start the trip and hope for the best? It is a 6.5 hour drive after all. Or maybe we should just play it safe and wait until we hear from them. But if we do that, isn't that us just being negative? Fuck it, let's go!
So we go. We get 35 minutes out of town (where cell phone reception is shoddy at best), and my phone rings. The clinic.
Good news: my estrogen is where it needs to be at 127.
Bad news: progesterone is not quite 10.
So no transfer tomorrow.
My Prometrium has been upped to four a day. Lovely. I wasn't crazy enough on two a day.
Also, they want to see me at the clinic on Wednesday (versus me having local monitoring done that day). They can get a more accurate idea of what is going on if they do my ultrasound and blood work. My new transfer date is Thursday (for now!).
I will now be missing two days of work, and I left early today for no reason.
Plus, I was a bitch to Buster on the way back home and it turned into a fight.
The joys of assisted reproduction!
Random fun fact: remember how tomorrow is my mom's birthday? And that had to be a good omen to have a transfer on her birthday, right? Well get this: Thursday is MIL's birthday. Shit.is.crazy.