I am currently sitting in the Dallas-Ft Worth airport waiting as patiently at I can for our final flight. It’s funny, cause when I say “our,” I mean the tiny human and I. Over the last week or so that identification of myself as singular has changed.
Needless to say, the Iowa trip was a great deal of fun. Except for the not drinking. I wasn’t quite as sad about it as I thought but my colleagues sure were. We did get to spend an evening with the Head of Soft Tissue Surgery where she introduced my besties to bourbon. That was some funny shit. First because her original reason for becoming a bourbon tasting master was because drinking hard liquor meant a faster tipsy without frequenting bathrooms as much. Hilarious. Especially considering she is scary as hell in clinics. She ain’t playing there.
The rest of girls weekend was fairly uneventful. The tiny human was frequently called “the fetus,” which was in reality funny in a weird doctor humor kind of a way.
The Hubs took the trip pretty well although he caused me to panic and text our RE nurse to ask about flying. And to be honest, I was pretty freaked out. This is hard. Being so afraid something could change and in reality there is not much that could be done to stop it. I am nauseous very occasionally, have mild cramps fairly frequently, and a crazy GI, but that is it. And unfortunately I knew it was crazy to even buy sticks while visiting friends and so I couldn’t even do that. I am so bloody terrified that the bad thing will happen. It’s awful this fear. I have been able to stave off the worst of my crazy, thank heavens, and am just trying to be in the moment.
But I’m not gonna lie and say I won’t be thrilled to be back home. And I am really glad we have a beta today or tomorrow.