Somewhere back in our recent IVF past, I think it was after Cycle Two and before Cycle Three. Oh my, how these things become a blur when they begin to multiply! Anyway, we had been in the city for an appointment with our fertility specialist, and somehow it happened that the nurse could see us shortly after our appointment was over, so off we went across this large city hospital to where the action end of the clinic is located. Could we be so fortunate after making five or so of these 8 hour (round trip) travels to the clinic all in a short span of nine or ten days, get away with having to make yet another journey back for what they term the ‘nurse appointment’?
In the nurse’s office we were signing papers, how many embryos did we want transferred, 1 or 2 (the standard for our chain of clinics). As if I was thinking. Only days earlier we had made the long hike to the city, staying in a nearby motel the night before, we had travelled to the clinic’s private hospital that morning having made it with any of those pesky early morning calls to suggest that things had gone awry.
