23 million

Go, swimmers, go!

I got my smiley-face yesterday afternoon: sigh of relief. Called Olga. Fortunately, I don’t seem to have lingering angry feelings toward her. We’ve moved on. She cheerfully set up my appointment for 1:15 today, just 45 minutes after my IUI last month. I’ve duplicated every detail of last month to the best of my ability.

Today, I left work around 12:15. I thought about rushing home to get Mojo, but decided nah–Mojo is with me in my heart. I needed to grab lunch.

I had chicken pho and limonata Pelligrino at My Father’s Kitchen, a Vietnamese restaurant near UCSF. I wondered whether Dr. Tran goes there for lunch, and if so whether it reminds him of his father’s (or mother’s) kitchen back in Vietnam. As I was finishing, I thought I saw him walk in, in scrubs. My mind raced: what if it’s him? What if it’s not him? Am I thinking all Vietnamese doctors look alike? He was seated right behind me. After studying the back of his head as I got up to leave, I decided that my Dr. Tran didn’t have a bald spot and wasn’t that short and didn’t wear scrubs and wouldn’t slurp his soup like that. Still, it seemed like a good sign in a moment when I was looking for signs.

Then I sat in the waiting room enjoying my last moments of peace before the two week wait.

After being called into the exam room, I had some more time to think. This time, I thought, I’m going to focus on reducing stress in all respects, every day. Which is a good goal no matter what you’re trying to do in life, no?

Same drill on this fourth round IUI–the nurse practitioner was Dr. J and she was nice and ultra-efficient. We reviewed McPiercy’s donor number, total motile (rhymes!): 23 million, and overall motility “moving fast / hyperactivated.” I am not kidding you: from speculum to “great ovulation mucus, so bonus on the timing!” to “the sample is going in” to “take care!” was probably 3.5 minutes.

She left me in the room for 5-10 minutes to relax, and I thought, “I love you, baby.” I felt a symbolic lightning bolt strike down from the heavens.

And then, I went about my biz.

I’ve done a lot of thinking since my “heroine” post in which everyone was expecting details of my new drug addiction, ostensibly the latest method for handling the stress of trying to conceive. (Yes, the “e” in “heroine” is critical!) I was trying to put a positive spin on what was otherwise a somber post. First conclusion: when it came down to it, I really needed sleep. I slept 9 hours and the next morning felt like a million bucks.

Second, it’s OK to sometimes feel low. When I’m in that mode, I tend to focus on the things I’m missing in life, even while there is a huge abundance of wonderfulness staring me in the face. I read a good quote yesterday in someone’s email signature that said, “Pessimists see the difficulty in opportunity while optimists see the opportunity in difficulty.” Right on.

Third, the universe has sent me quite a flurry of evidence in the last 24 hours that I do, in fact, attract the attention of men. The universe also sent a PS that these men, while they do exist, are just wildly and hilariously inappropriate matches for me right now. These include the guy on the 38 Geary bus who introduced himself as a veteran in his 50s who finds me “very sweet,” the handyman in the line outside Kelly-Moore who started singing a song precisely as I walked by that began with “bonita,” and a guy who emailed me on OK Cupid to suggest that we meet for coffee followed by a “purely lighthearted best-of-five wrestle.” You know I’m not making this stuff up!

The fact is, there’s only one man in my life right now: McPiercy. He’s hot. He gives me my space. He provides me with millions of fast-moving sperm and lets me have my way 100% of the time. AND he’s helping me pursue my biggest life goal. I’ll tell you all about him once he knocks me up (again).

Meanwhile, I’ll be over here relaxing like crazy.