8 hours ago
Sunday, March 04, 2007
"Grade A" Eggs Lost on Youth
Going into this I have assumed that my ovaries will kick out some "grade A" eggs and they will fertilize beautifully and me and my just-transferred perfect blastocysts will walk happily into the sunset together. Uh huh.
In these time-wasting little daytime diddies, I dream about Dr. ColdSpeculum gushing about my grade A eggs and our unbelievably perfect embies.
Yes,I dream and all the while neglecting basic responsibilities in life...for instance, getting all of the G!rl Scout cookies delivered that Goose and Lili sold. Who I am to deprive people of their minty, peanut buttery, lemony guilty pleasures?
BTW, Grade A? I feel like a dept of agriculture item for inspection.
What in the h$ll am I thinking with these thoughts of perfect egg-ness? The only Grade A anything in my near future will probably be the bruises left on my bum and belly.
I am now THIRTY EIGHT years old! Hello!? - Ashpash? - you are no longer a twenty-something college student wearing ripped jeans to concerts and doing marketing papers on a word processor. (It took an ink ribbon people...it had a hammer that made contact with paper...do you see how much aging my eggs have done?)
Even if my eggs do somehow end up being "fair" in quality the chance of success is quite low...like, if the doctor told you that you had this percentage as your chance of living through next week, you would immediately get a will drawn up and find a home for your Se*x and The C*ity DVD collection. This European-vacation-being-spent-on-trips-to-Dr.ColdSpeculum-and-lots-of-needles is nothing more than ME making sure I have crossed t's and dotted i's before I find myself eating my nightly 5PM dinner with my fellow widowed sister at Wy*att's Caf*eteria.
Despite the low success percentage and high cost, I have to cross it off my list.
Our song is playing and we are not sitting this one out. Let the band play (even if along the way a few notes are sour!)