Tomorrow, Tomorrow.

Tomorrow is the big day. TUESDAY. TUESDAY. TUESDAY. Six well deserving eggos will be sucked out of me and hopefully brought to life by a fabulous mom and dad who will love it forever and ever. Right now the eggos are snuggled up inside of me, weighing down on my bladder, and making me need to pee at a ridiculously high rate.

The pre-op nurse called me and freaked me out for a bit today. I've never been put under anesthesia before. Made me a little nervous. Yes, yes I know everything would be okay but I scribbled down three numbers on a pad of paper for Dad-oh to call in case I need to go meet the spirit in the sky. He keeps looking at me like I'm crazy but I like to be prepared. :)

I will be knocked out for most of the day tomorrow. Drooling on my pillow. Dreaming trippy drug induced dreams. And the eggos will turn into embryos and be resting in someone else's womb.

Think positive thoughts.

Awkward

I don't let my dad come with me to the infertility clinic. Mostly because...well...we don't want anyone to assume we are there together.

My sister thinks this is H I L A R I O U S by the way. She wants me to bring dad and call him big papa.

EWWWWWWW.

But it is still funny. And creepy. It's funeepy.

The Final Countdown

The eggos are ready for their harvesting.

I take the shot that makes me ovulate (man, I hate that word) tonight at 8 PM. Woo. They come out of me on Tuesday, I fly home Wednesday and return to work on Thursday.

The parents get their eggo baby and I get my life back. Yesssss! I can almost taste the celebratory Jack Daniels or Tanqueray or Seagrams or Hefeweizen I will have on Friday evening.

Sicky Sniffly Icky

Oh dear God. On Friday morning the eggos and I woke up and felt like D Y I N G. I was so sick. Flu style.

I went to the clinic and they gave me and the eggos a check up. Then they took my temperature 100.9. G R E A T. I was a little worried it would effect the eggos but they just wanted me to get some rest and feel better. The eggos and I passed the eff out at the hotel while my Dad and my uncle had a "bro-day". They drank Jack Daniels and ate oysters all day long while I was shaking and shivering and sweating and puking.

This is when the crazy hormones tapped in, too. I was sick and my sig o wasn't around to dote on my like he normally does. I also missed my bff and my friends baaaaaad. Being ill and hormonal at the same time takes such an unnecessary emotional toll.

I needed to man the eff up so I took a cold bath to get my temperature down (think House-style, only without the grumpy-yet-hot-asshole-doctor around). I also pounded popcicles and ice cubes like they were tic-tacs.

Soooo dreamy!
Luckily, Saturday I woke up all better. Only I sound like a frog. Ribbit.

The Story of McDrunky and McSaint.

Dad and I got on the FLYING TUBE OF DEATH (aka an airplane) and headed east toward the sunshine.
There was a man (we shall call him McDrunky) who was "shit-housed"/"hammer drunk"/"fucking lit" sitting across the isle next to me. McDrunky got on the plane that drunk. McDrunky couldn't lift his carry-on above his head. McDrunky couldn't talk without sluring his speach. McDrunky couldn't function at all. McDrunky sits down and is quite for about 10 minutes before he turns to the guy next to him (We'll call him McSaint) and says, "Do you mind if I smoke?" The McSaint replies, "You can't smoke on an airplane." McDrunky replies, "If I can get arrested for smoking on an airplane, you should be arrested for chewing ice." If I were McSaint, at this time I would have punched McDrunky's lights out. However McSaint say, "Sir, if you could just ask me to stop chewing ice, I'd be happy to do it." McDrunky concedes and McSaint goes back to reading.

A while later, the drink cart comes around. I've given a delicious ginger ale and the Flight Attendant (aka Delta Ditzes henceforth) makes McDrunky a double Canadian Club & seven up. WHAT? ARE YOU KIDDING ME? I AM PRACTICALLY DRUNK FROM THE FUMES RADIATING OFF OF THIS JACKASS AND YOU ARE GIVING HIM MORE LIQUOR? Thanks Delta Ditzes. You get a thumbs down in my book.
This is when things go sour for McDrunky. McDrunky stops making sense when he talks and starts talking to other passengers. He also starts harassing the guy next to him more. No bueno. McDrunky spills his double all over himself and his seat. McSaint goes and gets a paper towel for him to wipe down with and McDrunky spills all over McSaint's seat. McSaint starts wiping up again when McDrunky spills all of his drunk all over his own lap. Then McDrunky slowly leans forward and passes out with his head against the seat back in front of him. Classy.
The turbulance at this point starts picking up (picking up a little, teeny-tiny baby amount) and I, of course, start freaking out on the inside and begging God to let me live. McDrunky is startled awake and begins incoherently talking about taking care of his mother and dropping the F-bomb for about five minutes. A Delta Ditz walks over and tells him he has had too much to drink. WHAT? YOU JUST GAVE HIM A DOUBLE AN HOUR AGO WHEN HE WAS SHIT HOUSED. THIS IS COMPLETELY YOUR FAULT. McDrunky berates McSaint for about five minutes. McDrunky then settles down and passes out again.
When we land, McDrunky is still passed out and everyone around McSaint shakes his hand and calls him a saint and is super impressed by how he kept his cool. That guy deserves several free flights from Delta on his ability to keep his calm.
McDrunk wakes up and walks in front of my dad off the plane. McDrunk steps onto the get way and BOOOOOM! hits the floor. Dad just stands there while the Delta people help McDrunky up.
As McDrunky departed from us...I heard him say he was going to the bar...
Oi vey.