This and That....Frick and Frack

Everyone I know who has gone to the fertility guru had an unsuccessful first attempt at IVF -- and a successful attempt on try #2. I'm hoping those odds work in my favor.

This morning, Jill picked me up and after a quick stop through the Dunkin Donuts drive-through for bagels, we headed to Syracuse. Dr. Richard Gere was as charming as usual -- of course, I took a valium when I got to the office so that could have something to do with it -- and we hugged and squeezed hands and he had encouraging, spiritual words to say over my belly.

And then the speculum was in, the internal ultrasound was in, the catheter was in...and then Frick and Frack went in. In to 9mm of uterine lining, into a belly that wants them to hang on tight, into their mommy who will do whatever it takes to encourage them to burrow in and thrive.

When I got home from acupuncture this afternoon, I talked to my mom, who proceeded to tell me that she spoke to Buffalo Dave this morning. He asked how I was doing. And rather than the easy "she's great...you should give her a call" she said, "at this moment, she's being inseminated." (I've given up trying to explain the difference between all of the procedures that I'm going through.)

I took a deep breath. "Please don't tell people what I'm doing, specifically."

"He knows you're trying to have a baby."

"Yes, but I don't tell people, specifically what I'm doing each day throughout this process. If they are interested enough in my life, they will ask me, they will call me to give me support. Without that, they don't have a right to know."

"But...."

"Just please respect my wishes. I don't need him calling me in two weeks to find out if I'm pregnant."

"He wouldn't do that."

"Not the point. Even if you think people are on the approved list, please don't tell them anything. Tell them if they are that interested, they should call me."

I know she means well. I know she's excited. But she needs to respect my wishes, and she needs to respect my boundaries.

Another example, she told my sister-in-law last month, "well no baby this month."

As if mostly anyone in my family has said boo to me about what I'm going through in the past 18 months. No one needs a scorecard of my pregnancy tests, unless they earned the right to know. And they earn it by showing me support. Frankly, as much as I love Buffalo Dave, he hasn't earned the right to know the details. And certainly most people in my own family haven't earned the right to know the details.

I know I set standards for other people too high sometimes, I expect of them what I expect of myself. And I'm usually disappointed. My friend in Rochester is in the process of adopting from Colombia. All the paperwork is in order, they are just waiting. And waiting.

Last week, I sent her an email: "I'm not going to ask if you've heard anything, or if you have any news or when you think you might hear something or even how you're doing...I just wanted to let you know that I'm thinking of you."

If more people -- who am I kidding, just one person -- could send me something like that....it would go a long way.

Enough negativity. I'm going to get into bed shortly, listen to my meditation CD, track 2 "post transfer," and try to get a good night's sleep.

Happy burrowing, Frick and Frack.