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Counting down to a fully furnished uterus

October 4, 2010

A week from today, a doctor — not my regular one, who will be on vacation — will call me. He will tell me how many embryos we have, and what day we want to transfer them to my shag-carpeted, conversation-pit-furnished uterus. I will then presumably be filled with two thoughts: 1) Oh crap, this is real and 2) I have to get out of work for two days with very short notice.

Right now, I’m more obsessed with Number 2, probably because Number 1 is too overwhelming to begin to contemplate.

Saturday night, as I lay on my friend’s pull-out sofa in Dallas, the room spun around me. No, I wasn’t overwhelmed by the magnitude of potential parenthood, even as I was lulled to sleep by the wails of a four-week-old. I had vertigo. Finally, at 4 a.m., I rolled over and pulled out my trusty laptop, and found that 2 percent of patients wearing Vivelle estradiol (synthetic estrogen) patches have reported vertigo. Could I be that lucky? My friend and her baby also have colds, so it could be an inner ear infection. Or it could be the Lupron. Or the antidepressants. I have so much crap coursing through my body — how many animal fluids used in pharmaceuticals now live in me? — it’s anybody’s guess.

But it’s way easier to focus on than what will happen in the next two weeks, two months, two years, two decades … or not at all. That’s not pessimism. That’s realism.

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