In Monday night’s dream I was lost in the fertility clinic, which looked like an enormous mall, complete with coffee shops, clothes stores and movies. I saw an old Professor from my work, who is very chatty and I started running away from him, avoiding his gaze, evading his questions and hoping he won’t see me. He came after me and I ran away but the escalators were too slow and the lifts kept on taking me to the wrong floors.
In Tuesday night’s dream, I was visiting my friend who just had a baby. She was telling me that she and her husband have been trying for their second child for almost a month now and that she knows exactly how I feel. I was dumbfounded.
Last night I dreamt that the fertility clinic phoned me and said that all their ultrasound machines were broken. They asked whether we have an extra one in our lab, and if not, they have to cancel all the scans for today and postpone all the women’s treatments. It was of utmost importance that I find a solution.
My mind is quiet through the day but I wake up, my back tense and my pajamas soaked with sweat. The cats both lie with my husband and stare at me in amusement.
I went for my baseline scan at the fertility clinic this morning. I dread and look forward to starting IUI #2. It was a very strange morning at the fertility clinic. I was catching up on some reading in the waiting room – I always feel like I’m reading these women’s thoughts when I read your posts about infertility – all the good, the bad and the ugly. “Excuse me! Can you make some space?” a woman asked me. Is that… a baby stroller?! At the fertility clinic? I looked at her astonished, blinked in confusion and slowly reacted “Oh! Sure! Sorry.”
There are about 20 women in the waiting room – we all keep our faces blank while her baby laughs and she and the father take turns to play with the baby. It feels so out of place! Why would they bring their baby here? Reason a.) They are trying for a second baby. The father is here as well, but surely he could have stayed home with the baby while his wife came in for a scan? But maybe it’s an important scan. It feels a little mean. Did she forgot how it feels to be in our shoes? Reason b.) Maybe she wants to show the doctor her baby and thank him? But why come in the morning when we’re all getting unsuccessful scans? I can’t stop wondering even while I lie in the ultrasound room for 15 minutes, pantless, childless, waiting.
Back in the waiting room… another couple walked in with a baby! What?! Then it dawned on me, it’s school holidays. Maybe the couples didn’t have anyone to look after their children while they came for scans. Mental note: if I’m ever in the same situation, I would leave my baby with my husband/moms. I heard a women yell elated from one of the nurse coordinator’s offices: “OH MY WORD! I’m PREGNANT!”. At the exact same moment, a lady falls into the seat next to me and starts crying into her mother’s arms. I don’t know if I should pat her back. My nerves are shot.
I pay, get my drugs, see my nurse coordinator and phone my husband in the car to update him. My voice breaks when, in my rearview mirror, I see a couple walking to the lifts, the woman with a gift bag and her partner with a bottle of wine. They must have come to thank a doctor. Maybe there’s a breakfast today for all the successful parents and doctors.
My nurse coordinator said I had a weird cycle last month. I sit in the parking garage, swallowed my Letrozole and Vitamin D with luke warm water from my water bottle and started to cry.