Luck Be an 8

We are on track for our FET tomorrow and the 8’s are just piling up around here.  Of course, tomorrow is 08/08/08 and we have our transfer.  I also realized that we are on our 8th porcedure to get pregnant and the Man and I have been together for 8 years (and some change).  Of course, none of this means squat really – what will be will be and the fact that it happens to land on the most auspicious day in the calendar is neither here nor there.  I think that the effect is more psychological.  It’s exciting that we are at a confluence of the luckiest number.

As for the sordid details, I swung by the IVF lab today to fill out the paperwork and we once again had to read all of the dire predictions and agree that we absolve them of any possible scenario in which our embryos do not make it into my uterus, I don’t get pregnant or – and this is my personal favorite – I get pregnant and deliver and then claim that the IVF lab should raise them.  And, just for good measure they start off with this lovely sentence:

Due to circumstances of the impossibility of achieving conception through ordinary means, we Mr. and Mrs. X hereby authorize Dr. Uterus and Dr. Freakout to thaw, culture and transfer our embryos to Mrs. X in an attempt to treat our infertility.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I am infertile and just in case there was any confusion, the intake paperwork listed diagnosis for admittance as INFERTILITY. Yes, it was in all caps.  And, then, I was told cheerfully that the lady there was new because her predecessor was on maternity leave.  I found this highly amusing. Silly IVF nurse, don’t you know what not to say to infertile ladies – at the IVF Lab!? 

I also got my one Valium – yes, Dr. Uterus only gave me a prescription for one.  I don’t know if this will have the desired effect – I had a Valium for my Lasik eye surgery four years ago and it didn’t do jack shitsky to get me relaxed.  Of course, that could have been because I was super nervous about having a giant laser poked in my eye.  But, Dr. Uterus is afraid that anything more would turn me into this:

Not pretty.

And, now, it is my last evening before I am With Embryos.  I celebrated with a wonderful glass of red wine, and walked the pooch, tried to train said pooch in the “leave it” command only to find that he is one sneaky little hungry hippo and this is going to take some time, and watched Nanny 911 to see how not to parent the children that may or may not be produced from this cycle (lesson number 1: letting children eat off of the floor is not a good idea).

I am not particularly nervous or excited – tomorrow is just another day.  I’ll probably be feeling a little differently once we get there (and we are assuming that our little totscicles will thaw and be good quality.  Depending upon my Valium haze, I’ll try to post tomorrow with the final report.

images: holeymoon and lejoe