And the good news trend continues with way above average numbers. 11 4-cell grade 1 embryos, 2 grade 2 4-cell embryos and one grade something-or-other 2 cell embryo (which the embryologist says really doesn’t matter in the general scheme of things, she thinks we’re pretty much covered). 5 day transfer. Which will land, oddly enough, on my mother’s birthday. Freakish coincidence?

Hm. I’m feeling weirdly fertile.

Damn. I’m still pretty detached, sort of wondering when the fugue will break. It will at some point, I’m sure – I guess it doesn’t really matter when reality crashes through. ‘Cause it will eventually.

D’s stomping around the kitchen singing to the dogs, reciting his favorite movie lines: “It rubs the lotion on its skin or else it gets the hose again” (Silence of the Lambs), “I swear my personal tragedy will not interfere with my ability to do good hair” (Steel Magnolias) and “What you need to ask yourself is, are you a Mexi-can or a Mexi-can’t?” (Once Upon A Time in Mexico). The dogs are wagging at him adoringly, and I’m playing with my new guitar and amp after the best massage I’ve ever had (I almost fell off the table afterward).

All in all, a good day so far.