Silence

I arrived at 7:31 AM this morning, but the elevator was still locked. I joined eight other women and one man by the elevator, waiting for the keypad to blink, announcing that we were open for business. I glance around the group of women, all avoiding eye contact with each other. The thought crosses my mind to break the silence, but instead I pull out my phone and check email. If they want to remain anonymous, I will let them.

I enter the clinic at 7:35, add my name to the sign-in sheet, and have a seat. Glancing around the room, I see that each woman has taken a seat away from everyone else. Somehow, with only 10 bodies, we have filled the entire waiting room. Some read, others play with their phones, and the only break from silence is the nurse calling us back.

I am finally shown to a room by my least favorite nurse at 7:52. I am already heading to the restroom when she asks me if I need to use it. Yes, I think, I know the drill. Instead I nod my affirmative and let myself in.

As I sit down, I notice that the woman on the other side of the door has left her pants, shoes, and jacket in the room. I remember those boots from the waiting room, camel-colored Uggs with fleece lining. There were two women with those shoes, one my age and the other slightly older. “I wonder which one,” I think.

As I wash my hands, I think about that woman. About how she gets the chance to become pregnant and how I’m jealous. “Donor hormones are kicking in again,” I think. As I fold my pants and hide my panties, I wonder about whether or not to try this cycle. “R’s sperm count was never verified after his vasectomy and maybe this is the cycle…”

I pull the paper sheet over my lap and take out my phone, figuring I’ll read a few blogs as I wait. I hear a noise and think it’s my doctor coming in, but it is the restroom door locking. Then a gulping noise and the tears start. I hear her sobbing and pulling paper towels out of the holder. I want so badly to knock on the door, to offer her a hug and to hold her. I don’t want her to be alone.

Just a minute later, my doctor comes in and invites me to lie back as she readies the wand. She asks me about my upcoming weekend as we both pretend not to hear the woman crying on the other side of the wall. I put my feet in the stirrups and pray that she doesn’t have to go to work, that she can just head home.

By the time I make it to the lab, there are no Uggs. She has already left and I have no way to find her.

Whoever you are, I am praying for you. I hope you are not alone today. I hope the next one works.

Cycle Day: 10

Estrogen: 1500

Follicle Measurements: 10m to 12m range

Dosage: 150 Follistim, 1 vial Menopur, 1 Ganirelix pre-filled syringe

Estimate retrieval date: CD15

Baby Crazy (1=least, 10=most): 5