I was going to write a post about names: the names I see on the sign in sheets at Clinic One, the strange name of the fourth doctor I’ve seen there, the names that our hypothetical future child might one day call us.
But then, at the end of a long hallway at Clinic One I ran into yet another acquaintance: one who happens to share my name. I had been instructed to wait for my ultrasound at the end of this long hallway, where three chairs pressed against the wall serve as a makeshift waiting area. Two of the chairs were occupied by my acquaintance, her partner, and their tears. After two years of trying and a recent round of IVF, my acquaintance had been pregnant. After two years of trying and a recent round of IVF, the heart had stopped.
And I didn’t want to write my post about names anymore. Though I’m sure I will, at some point.
And I had my ultrasound, and I met with the fourth doctor I’ve seen at Clinic One, and I learned that this cycle is almost certainly out. My dominant follicle has disappeared, which the doctor blames on a bad egg. I’m disappointed, but that disappointment seems small next to somebody else’s loss.
I’ll bleed when I bleed, and we’ll try again. December is likely also out due to holiday travel plans. In the meantime, I have to go back to Clinic One tomorrow so that the doctor(s) can try to figure out what happened.
It wasn’t a good morning, but for somebody else it was worse.
Total Ultrasound Count: 15