My husband Dirk posted a blog regarding his extremely poor memory. Yesterday I got to experience – something – not sure what to call it.

While helping Dirk prepare dinner, I was asked to cut a lemon in half for him. I grabbed the lemon, split it in two and handed him half. I then noticed the little sticker that the grocery clerk uses to id the produce. In my usually manner, I removed the sticker and promptly suck it to Dirk’s ear. I then finished what I was doing and moved on to another task in another part of the house. An hour must have past when Dirk yells from upstairs – in my alarm I run to the stairs to see if he is okay. While looking in the mirror, he noticed something on his ear and was alarmed to find a sticker. I actually stood there looking at him dumbfounded. He had no idea how it got there or how long he had been wondering the house with it on. In his alarm, he was worried that he had gone jogging with it on.

I am not sure what to say – it was not a sneak attach like I was placing a ‘kick me’ sign on his back without him knowing. I walked over and stuck it to his ear, giggled, then continued what I was doing. I am sure glad he’s good-looking.

It has been a difficult week struggling with the reality that there maybe something more wrong with me then just my age. We were thinking this process would be easy – one round and we are pregnant. This is just a technical difficulty due to a hasty decision to get a vasectomy – we got this nailed. Besides, the women in my family smell sperm a mile away and get pregnant!

Today, we met with the doctor. The news is still very positive, we have exceptional embryo’s, especially at my age.  This leads him to conclude a couple of options: a) We were just beaten by the odds or b) I have an over active immune system that is not allowing the embryo’s to implant.

With eight frozen embryo’s, the decision is made that this round will be a frozen embryo transfer (FET) which will be much easier on my body. There will be no fertility drugs, but I will be taking the estrogen and progesterone to prepare. As you recall from my previous blog, this is where crap gets messy. Finally, they will introduce a steroid and a blood thinner to ensure my immune system gives these embryo’s a fighting chance.

I leave the doctor’s office armed with literature on the FET process and a requisition for a few more tests. I feel great, like we keep hitting snooze on my biological clock.

The wait is over – today I  wake up early and go to the lab for a blood test. I plan to be the first person there. I get up a 7:30 am to be there for 8 am. To my surprise the place is packed with more grey hairs then seniors day at the grocery store. I take a number and try to wait patiently for my turn. These 12 days have been so hard and I just want the results. My turn comes and the blood is drawn. In my anxisous state I ask how long to process and fax the results over to my doctor. The lady tells me that the van to take the samples to the main lab for processing does not even arrive until 10 am – so it will be late afternoon until I get my results.

When I get home I relay these details to Dirk. He wants me to call the centre to ensure they call us stat with the results – the clinical coordinator promises she will. It is 12:30 pm when the call comes – she is sorry to report that the results are negative. This time I know better then to question the results. There is no need to pee on the stick to confirm.

BFN – Big Fat Negative.