When We Need the Bull, We Need the Bull

My doctor visit went well today. I told him I am getting pretty uncomfortable; he said it's normal and that it's going to get worse. Yay. He then oohed and aahed over my glorious follicles, giving me that proud mother bear feeling I like so much. I have eight beautiful follies in there, growing on schedule, almost ready for picking. Two more nights of stims, and yet another dosage increase. I go back tomorrow, but we're hopefully looking at trigger on Friday and retrieval on Sunday. My husband has recently joined the Air National Guard (a whole other story that begins with him graduating from the Virginia Military Institute in 1999 and ends with him going away to officer training in Tennessee for 6 weeks in January and us being sent to Texas for 7 months any time after that for intel training - sigh.). Anyway, he has a drill in PA this weekend and is concerned about the timing of all of this. My doctor's response to his scheduling questions: "When we need the bull, we need the bull." This is possibly the funniest thing I've ever heard my doctor say, though I realize it indirectly refers to me as a cow. Now, as much as I feel like a bloated cow right now, I'd prefer if others didn't refer to me that way.

In other news, I am part of an IVF message board on BabyCenter.com, and I am pleased to say that every single woman on that board who has completed their IVF cycle this month is pregnant! It is the best run of good luck I've seen in a long time, and I am terrified that I will be the one to break the streak. It would be just like me. I am famous for having rotten luck, which makes times like this even more stressful. Medical science cannot always overcome such karma, so it is entirely possible that this will all fail simply because that is the kind of thing that happens to me. I know it sounds like I am being overly pessimisic, but seriously it is almost comical the way things work out sometimes. But I will take my chances. Things have to turn around sometime, right?