On Saturday, I wrote almost an entire blog post on my phone as I waited at Clinic One. I meant to post it then, but didn’t. So this post covers both Saturday’s visit and today’s.
I could tell that it would be a long wait as soon as I stepped into the lobby of Clinic One. All of the seats in the waiting area were full, and several people leaned against the long reception desk, clutching half-drunk coffees from McDonalds. In the first ten minutes clinicians called for “Allison” at least half a dozen times, but Allison had clearly left the building. There were children everywhere. Toddlers scanned the crowds for their mothers, while a slightly older child stuck pushpins through the endless pictures of baby faces on the bulletin boards. 25 minutes had now passed since arriving. On a good day I would be chasing Dr. Text down a hallway at this point.
Clinic One is, as Sea described, the Costco of fertility clinics. Ultrasounds are called by number, not name. As I sat waiting for the blood draw, I could hear them calling ultrasound numbers from the other side of the clinic “30!”, “31!”, “32!”. I am number 53.
An hour and 45 minutes later, I had finally had my blood drawn and my ovaries examined by yet another ultrasound technician I had never seen before. Dr. Text called me into his office, where I sat feeling like a badly behaved student in the principal’s office as he told me that my follicle had grown a measly .5mm in two days. There was still a crowd of people waiting to have their blood drawn as I left the office.
When I stepped into Clinic One, I was relieved to see that the crowd from Saturday had disappeared. It was busy, but there were still seats available. As I waited for my blood to be drawn, I waved to a woman who I had spoken to during Saturday’s long wait. Yes, I’m making Clinic One friends.
Blood drawn, I shuffled my pile of stuff over to the other side of the clinic to wait for my ultrasound. Though I didn’t see my second acquaintance, I saw her partner tapping at his iPad, a bored expression on his face. I sat down next to him and spoke as he waited for his partner to finish her ultrasound and I waited for mine to begin. We spoke about doctors’ approaches to meds, the heterosexism of fertility clinics and the Acquaintances’ excitement about their IUI– taking place that morning. Acquaintance finished her ultrasound, and joined the conversation. It was good to be talking to people in a similar situation: we laughed and talked– too loudly, I think– until I was called in for my ultrasound and then to see Dr. Text.
Dr. Text sat looking at my chart for a long time, silent. “Well, this is very strange. Your dominant follicle has shrunk.” What? Excuse me? My follicle? Couldn’t be. But it is. My “dominant” follicle (which clearly doesn’t deserve the title) was 14.5mm on Saturday and is 12.something today. I didn’t even know that follicles could do that. But apparently they can. Or at least mine did.
Dr. Text mumbled something about meds to promote follicle growth, and told me to come back on Thursday unless he calls me with another decision after reviewing my bloodwork. So for now, Thursday it is. I have a bad feeling that November is a bust, though.
I’ve had a regular cycle since puberty, and now is when my body decides to shake things up?
As I walked past the Acquaintances on my way out, I looked at them with new found jealousy. I wanted to be waiting for an imminent IUI, not heading back out into the cold. But I smiled and wished them luck, anyways.
Total Ultrasound Count: 13