Four of us

Today my husband and son are at a Renaissance fair a few miles out of town. I told him to go ahead without me, so I could get some rest before the scheduled embryo transfer tomorrow morning.

Truth be told, I'm appreciating the silence, but I have not really stopped moving since they left the house this morning. Two loads of dishes, then fixing the kitchen sink, making sourdough pasta dough (and later, cranking it out into fresh mafaldine), making lemon zucchini bread loaves, making protein pudding cups, creating the Boy Scout troop monthly newsletter, and cleaning and organizing along the way.

My body is a lot like my brain right now: just unable to slow down. I can't believe this is about to happen! I thought the IVF process would be much longer and more drawn out, but because of the specific conditions of our infertility, it's actually been a very quick turnaround. After the egg retrieval on Tuesday, they told us that seven of the eggs were fertilized - most common scenario, we would lose half of them by day three and more still by the day of the transfer. But when they called on the third day after fertilization, we still had seven embryos dividing! My husband Daniel and I cried so joyfully when we got the news.

Interestingly enough, the date of our transfer tomorrow will be June 1 - and like I mentioned earlier, we always say "rabbit, rabbit" on the first of the month. On May 1, a couple of rabbits crossed my path on the university campus. Tomorrow, I will be pregnant. It may not last, it may not stick, it may end up being a failed cycle. But at least tomorrow, I will be pregnant. And that is such a wild, emotional thing to process.

Even though the process of IVF has felt quick, the infertility journey has been long and emotional and deeply complicated. We've wanted this for so, so long, and it's incredible to think that we are as close as we potentially are.

Tonight, I've got to do my best to try to get good sleep. We've got another long drive to San Francisco in the morning, and will be starting out even earlier just in case we hit more traffic, although this one is not as specific time restricted as the egg retrieval was. I am anticipating a lot of the happy tears, especially when my husband is holding my hand and we can see the transfer happen on the ultrasound screen.

The only thing I am sad about is that my son can't be in the room with us, because I'd love to have him holding my other hand or even just his hand on my shoulder. He's wanted this just as long as the rest of us - pretty much since he realized he wasn't the only little person on the planet, he's wanted to be a big brother. But I'm still glad to have him with us for before and after. The four of us, even if it only lasts a day.