This morning I had an appointment with the fertility doctor for bloodwork and ultrasound. When you take injectable medication like I am taking, they need to monitor you closely as the egg follicles grow. There's a very small window when you can actually get pregnant so the monitoring is one way to make sure you don't miss your chance. After the ultrasound I went to chat with the doctor. I sat down across the desk and said, "So last time I was here you told me that if we moved on to IVF I'd have a 50% chance of getting pregnant. I wrote about it and the outpouring of mail I got was overwhelming - people telling me that that number couldn't be right. What's the real deal?" He let out a sigh and said, "Kate - I didn't say five zero...I said fifteen. At your age you'd have a FIFTEEN percent chance of getting pregnant."
For the past week, I've actually had myself convinced that I had heard him correctly. Everyone who wrote to me MUST have been wrong. That maybe my doctor said 50% to me because I'm an exception. Maybe it was a compliment to my stunning uterus. (I would like to think it looks young for it's age) But, alas...I was wrong. And boy, besides feeling deflated and a little bit pessimistic now that I know it's a 15% chance...I feel pretty stupid, too.
So, let's move on then.
When I got home from my appointment, the boys were eating lunch. Brian made a bit of a mess so I pulled out the mini-vac and let him go at it. He loved it so much I might have to make it a daily chore!
Soon after, it was time for Gavin's therapies. First to arrive was Miss Maggie. Gavin was really cranky and uncooperative for much of the session. She tried to massage his face - he fussed and cried and turned his head away. She tried to get him to crunch down on cracker - same reaction. I felt like I sang the whole half hour to keep him distracted. We were about to call it a day when Miss Maggie told Gavin he just had to take TWO crunches and he's be done. Don't you know - that's when he came through and "performed" for us. He was dramatic about it, but he did it! Take a look...
Miss Janna arrived immediately after for her teaching session with Gavin. I warned her when she walked in that he was in a mood! He just did NOT want to participate. She tried to get him to hold a marker - no way. She tried to get him to read a book - not interested. He fussed and cried. That was, until I sang. Gavin has always responded to music - since he was an infant. When I need him to cooperate, I sing his favorite songs. Soon his face went from twisted up and angry to this...
I can't imagine who he gets his dramatic flair from.
Probably his Daddy.