I spoke with Ann this morning, who is so wonderful. If this tale turns into a beautiful story, she would be playing the role of Fairy God Mother, as she's been so incredibly helpful both in coordinating everything with our donor and keeping my nerves in check. Both of which are no easy task.
She wanted to know how I was feeling-- and I'm feeling good. Of course its impossible not to hyper-analyze everthing. And by everything, I mean EVERYTHING: I'm not that hungry, which is totally not normal. My temperature last night is 99.2, slightly higher than where it normally registers. But these could both easily be blamed on nerves and the progesterone shots I take everynight. I'm a bit sleepy, which could be blamed on the fact that I'm absorbing a lot of meds and for the past two nights I've woken up like clockwork at 3am, going back to sleep about an hour later. Then I spend most my day trying to mask everything that I'm feeling--- and not telling people equally exhausting. I'm watching my words every moment of the day.
Oh heck, I'm just going to admit that I'm succombing to the "Might I Be" Syndrome. And I don't feel bad about it at all. I think its completely understandable.
Bottom line, I am beginning to understand what a hen feels like when she's sitting on an egg: "When am I gonna see if there's a chick?!?!?"
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