Me, the Rock$tar

I’m sure I’m not the only one who plays out little vignettes in my head, i.e. how I envision things unfolding in the future. “Yes, I gladly accept this nomination for the Nobel.” “Another cup of tea would be lovely, my dear Queen Elizabeth.” And so on, all while the relevant players are in the background, the necessary accompaniments sallying forth, fealty being sworn, etc.

However, it is rare indeed when things actually work out this way – needless to say, reality is so often a disappointment.

Until my last visit to ORM.

Oh sure, in my mind they’d all be falling at my feet in wonder and awe. A normal embryo! From someone old as dirt! I’d now be the Golden Child to be sure.

So I walk into ORM as usual, and is that a hint of surprise in the front office person’s voice when I tell her who I am? As in, “oh, so YOU’RE the one?” Possibly.

Then I get called back to meet with Dr. Barbieri, and not only is she eagerly waiting to greet me, but she’s also pulled over Serena, the Wonderful Genetics Counselor, with whom I discussed my bizarre Finnish heritage. She had also counseled me that even with a chromosmally normal embryo, I shouldn’t expect BFU (at the time just a hint of a far-off dream) to be perfect. To which I assured her thusly:

“Oh, don’t you worry, if this kid isn’t perfect in every way, I’m leaving him or her on a doorstep. IN FINLAND.”

We yucked it up back then, but here I was, me with my perfect embryo. Take that, shitty chances!

Anyway, Serena gushes over this amazing turn of events, and then we head back to Dr. Barbieri’s office, where, I kid you not, is someone prepared to transcribe every word we utter, probably for posterity. Okay, so Dr. B. said it was because they were “transitioning to all electronic records,” but surely that was just a front. Because then Dr. B. leaves for a minute, and walks back to the room with someone else, who just peeks into the room. “Look, there’s our unicorn!” “Wow!” This is how I imagine their conversation.

Finally, Dr. B. and I sit down and cut to the chase.

Dr. B.: Wow, you really surprised all of us!

Me: Yeah, I’ve just been hoping to get another step closer to the mural of me in the lobby of your new building.

Dr. B.: None of us expected this, it’s wonderful.

Me: So now I’m your Golden Child, right?

Dr. B.: Well this is certainly unprecedented.

Me, firmly: Golden Child.

Dr. B.: Absolutely.

Me: We have a name for the embie already too.

Dr. B.: Oh, do tell?

Me: BFU. Badass Fucking Unicorn.

Dr. B.: That’s perfect.

Me: So I have to ask, have you gotten to this point, of a normal embryo, with your other 46-year-old clients?

Dr. B.: Well……we’ve had 2 44-year-olds who wound up with embryos to transfer. But those didn’t take.

Me: Not even any 45-year-olds?

Dr. B.: No. Not one BFU.

Me: Yep. Golden Child.

I’m surprised that at this point they don’t wrap me in bubble wrap to ensure my safety, but that’ll probably come later. In the meantime, we talk about my plan to get more BFUs, or unicubes, on ice (props to Laura M. for the brilliant unicube name. So perfect.), and she’s totally on board. Even though this is all expensive as shit, my hope is to do another cycle or two to get more unicubes, so I don’t have all the hopes and dreams of a nation riding on one little BFU. Plus I note that I’m hoping to have more follicles now that Shithead the Cyst has met his demise, and we both breath a sigh of relief over that – though Dr. B. does tell the scribe that she doesn’t need to include the info about Shithead. I guess when you’re dealing with records of immense future historical value, you want to clean them up a bit.

So we’re sticking to the same protocol, and only changing it up by adding Omnitrope, or HGH (Human Growth Hormone), which is supposed to improve egg quality. It’s stupidly expensive and relatively new to the IVF scene, so REs don’t usually add it to the protocol, but I feel like I’m now worthy of all such things. ALL the things!

I start my next round of shots next week, knock on wood, god willing and the creek don’t rise. To say that I can’t wait is an understatement. Maybe we’ll get more follicles! More eggs! More fertilization, more blasts! Umm, not that I’m competitive or anything. Nope….