"your two gorgeous embryos," says the doctor.
We love this doctor.

The transfer went very well - so well, that the embryologist asked us if we were prepared for twins. "How high a chance would that be, exactly?" I asked nervously. "About 25%," she said, leading me to believe that fertility specialists have a slightly different definition of "high possibility" than I do. The doctor casually mentioned that we should be prepared for "twins. Or triplets," she said, as if this did not freaking matter at all, as opposed to the fact that my heart nearly stopped for a moment - but, given that triplets is about a 1-2% chance, I've got other things to worry about. (Other good news, however: 1 additional was frozen today, and they're watching 3 more for possible freezing tomorrow. Back-up plans make me happy.)
Namely, that I am so completely twisted that my response to a transfer where everything went "beautifully," with embryos that are "gorgeous," is immediately to think, "Everything today went so well that surely I will screw it up or it will turn out badly in the end, because that is our luck when it comes to babies." REALLY? That's my response to a day that went as perfectly as it could? I immediately complain that it was too good?
Infertility: a level of mindf*ck you can never imagine until you get there.
On the way home, I was listening to an NPR story about a new video game based on Dante's Inferno (naturally, this time Dante fights his way through hell, presumably kicking demon ass all the way). "Huh," I thought. "Dante don't know squat about levels of hell until he's endured a two week wait following in-vitro fertilization. You want hell? Try that."
Now, all we can do is wait. Beta is February 19th. Thanks again for all your support; it makes all the difference in the world. There's another thing Dante didn't have: friends in blogland. I highly recommend it.
