The ass shot (my Lupron, that is, not some terrible frat party drinking activity) was no big deal. Nurse Incompetent's bedside manner was unhelpful (Are you SCARED? It's a BIG SHOT, so get ready! You should LOOK THE OTHER WAY!), but I felt nothing at all. Not that I am eager to sign up for doing it daily, but the once-a-month-administered-by-someone-else version turns out not to be scary at all. I have also succeeded in scheduling my surgery, and, as you all knew I would, I feel a little better about the waiting now. And I hope to see all of you become pregnant (or more pregnant, depending on your status!) while I sit here. With nothing to do. Perhaps I will take up knitting.
In fact, if I knew how to knit, I would start kitting a scarf. I would knit a little every day. If I happened to feel hopeful, I'd knit in, I don't know, a nice springy green. And when feeling despair, I'd knit in a gloomy grey-blue or something. And when I got pregnant, I would stop knitting. And when my child was old enough to appreciate the gesture, I'd present my forty-mile-long scarf to him or her, and say, This is how badly you were wanted. This is how much we loved you, ever so long before you were born.
And he or she would say, MOM! You're sooooo embarrassing!
Finally, I was hanging with PBF last night and she mentioned that they'd gone to great lengths trying to work a version of my name into their (still unborn) daughter's middle name. They ultimately failed, 'cause my name is unusual. But I was nonetheless deeply touched. I hope I get to be an important person in her life, even if we don't share a name. And most of all, of course, I hope I can provide her with some friends who are not too much older than she is.