Since then, I departed France last Friday and arrived in Hong Kong on Saturday afternoon. My arrival day plans got pushed back to Sunday, so I spent a lazy evening at home reacquainting myself with my much missed and very needy and whiny kittie, Precious Roy. I had started the Serophene (brand name for Clomid) on late Saturday afternoon when I got home (I'd meant to start it first thing in the morning, but forgot to put the little pill packet in my carry-on bag, and I was at 35,000ft first thing in the morning.) I'm not sure if it was the Serophene or the jet lag, or a mixture of the two, but I didn't fall asleep until 7am. Of course, I was supposed to be out of the house for my, now, Sunday plans by 10:30am....so that didn't happen. I did run around like a mad woman checking little errands off my list though, so Yay Me! on that one. I even took myself to a movie, since I'd been so deprived of new releases for the last month. I saw Step Up Revolution in 3D. Oh my goodness you guys, it was so bad! Not the dancing. The dancing was amazing and innovative. The soundtrack was tight. The storyline's entire premise was pretty lame and the acting didn't really help with that at all (shocking, yes, I know). But I digress...
Now, while all this is going on, you should know that my spermcicle from CCB Bachelor No. 1 shipped from California on 27th August. It arrived in Thailand on 1st or 2nd August....and was subsequently held in Customs (FedEx had to get my Thai clinic to submit some paperwork). Up to the day I left Hong Kong heading to Bangkok (today), the nitrogen tank holding what may very well be the key to my potential future child(ren), which was guaranteed to stay all nitrogen-y for 7 days, had been on the countdown clock for 11 days. ELEVEN! I was, in retrospect, shockingly calm about it. I sent e-mails to the clinic coordinator. She e-mailed me back. Apparently, it was some super long holiday in Thailand, so try as she might, they could not deliver it any sooner. Upon arriving at the very lovely and kitschy Phranakorn-Nornlen Family Guesthouse in Old Bangkok, I pulled out my laptop, got online and searched my e-mail for any sign of hope. When I opened the latest message from the clinic, I found this:
Dear *S,
The sample has arrived. The sample’s still freezing. J
Have a nice trip to Bangkok. See you .
Best,
I jumped to my feet and did a little dance of joy! My spermcicle had arrived safely, still frozen and nitrogen-y, and it is now waiting for me and some full-grown follicles to show up and handle business. And now I wait.
My last evening in Hong Kong before coming here, I Skyped with a guy doing a documentary about single women choosing to conceive alone. Miss T. had put me in touch with him, and I thought, "Sure, why not?" The whole thing was a little weird for me since I am not accustomed to having my decisions and/or motives questioned. He wasn't rude or anything like that. He was just curious and asking questions that I would normally only answer for my nearest and dearest. But he did ask me something towards the end that made me pause. He knew that I was leaving the next day to come to Bangkok for IUI. He asked how I would feel if this cycle was not successful. So far, every cycle I've tried has been unsuccessful. It's not a new feeling to me. It's not a new emotion. Will I be upset? Of course. Who wouldn't? No one comes into this hoping to fail. My emotions might run a little deeper this time because it may be more than another year before I can try again. But trying to get pregnant via alternative insemination three times with no babies to show for it, the failure feeling isn't new to me. I don't think it can hurt me in the same way that it has before. I'm sure it will hurt if that's the way it turns out, but I don't think I'll be broken by it. He asked if I was nervous or anxious. I thought for a moment. No. The airfare and lodgings are already booked. The spermcicle is already shipped (and now, thank God, received). The medication is being taken. The clinic doctors know what they are supposed to do. Everything that happens from here on out is out of my hands. So I choose to believe that all will be well. I choose to believe that at the end of this journey (and this is just a step in the journey, not the end), I will hold my baby in my arms. I will look on my baby's face, count my babies fingers and toes (always gotta check for extras), and speak my baby's name. I can do my best to bring events to pass, but the how and when and where this all happens is not up to me. So I wait, and I imagine a future with me happy in it.
Stay tuned....
