- Annoyingly peppy bitch thumbing through a parenting magazine and holding it up to her husband, open to baby pictures -- "Oh, honey, look at *this* one! These pictures make me want to cry!" Gag. Okay, first-timer, let's see you on your third cycle with track marks lining your arms and belly, clutching your hyperstimulated pelvis in vain attempts to get comfortable sitting immobile in your chair, staring at an incomprehensibly chipper couple gurgling across from you at 6:30AM with nothing but REDRUM on your mind. Catch you then, sweetness. Good-day.
- Somebody-or-another's husband coughing up a mothereffing storm and sucking back phlegm every 5 seconds like he's going to succumb to consumption right there in the waiting room. Your wife is here for some bloodwork and an ultrasound, right? Stay the fuck home, Typhoid Mary. I think she can manage one day without you. And I swear on a stack of waiting room pamphlets, if you gave me something contagious just days before my retrieval and transfer, so help me, I will manhunt you and end your misery and mine. Please-and-thank-you.
- Chatty-Cathy McJabberJaw repeating everything the morning news anchor says and cackling over it loudly with nonsequitor commentary. Let's break this down: A) You're annoying and your comments are unoriginal and trite to say the least; B) GOOD FOR YOU that you're a morning person, but I am not and as long as you grate on my last nerve you take your life in your own hands; C) just shut up already, for the love of all that's good and holy. Crikey.
It seemed like almost every woman it the waiting room had her husband with her, and all I witnessed them doing was shuffling behind their women to the lab for the customary blood-letting, then shuffling behind them to the exam room for an ultrasound. Why? I asked KB to come with me to 1) the initial consult, 2) the retrievals (and only because I can't drive home, although I bet I could, and because the embryologist needs his seed), and 3) the transfers (mostly for decision-making purposes, but I suppose also for moral support, 'cause he's cool like that and right handy in a crisis).
So, ladies of the internets, riddle me this: does/did your husband accompany you to RE appointments? Willingly, or because you told him to? For why? I'm quite curious.
[Don't know where my violent tendencies come from this morning -- not enough sleep, pelvic distention, too much going on in my head, maybe...but never fear, bloggy friends, I would never nip at you!]