The number of the day is 9…

This post is mainly for me.

More of a journal entry.

Today I donated my eggs using IVF for the second (and final) time.

I feel completely exhausted and overwhelmed and relieved and hopeful and anxious and grateful.

I took competitiveness to a new level when I polished off the 4 mini packs of biscuits, 3 sandwiches and 2 glasses of apple juice and was discharged all within 30 minutes of waking up from the anesthetic.

I downed shots of coffee in quick succession and then got all chatty.

I asked the lab to play Barry White music while my 9 lovely eggs made sweet sweet love in a dish to my donor recipients husbands sperm.

I got to 3 o’clock before feeling a bit sore and woozy and needing a lie down.

I discussed appropriate penmanship for 3 year olds with the lovely British surgeon while not wearing any underwear.

I remembered my date of birth each and every one of the 19 times that I was asked today.

I managed to tie up the gown so that my bum didn’t stick out but considering what the procedure was that was probably the least of my worries.

And now I am tired.

And hoping that all those 9 little eggs embrace those swimmers with open arms and settle down for a long and happy lives together.

But most of all my wish is that H gets the family that she wants so dearly and the her persistence in persisting pays off.

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