Got there at about 6:45, they took me back to prep for surgery and Dearest to make his contribution pretty much right away. I looked so absurd in my gown, blue cap, and booties, it was hard to be dramatic. The nursing staff was top notch. They asked me about 75 questions and got my IV in and fluids started and then Dearest got to come back and sit with me while we waited for the Dr to be ready to go. I was not feeling too nervous (ok, a little) but I was shaking!
Before you know it they took me to the OR, and Dearest to a little room where he could watch the ultrasound on a screen. He said it was pretty awesome to watch. The anesthesiologist (who did not mention our tardy payment at any point) told me I would feel a little burning where the IV was in and then I would be out. I remember the burning, I was just getting ready to crack a joke about it, but I was out before I got the chance.
The next time I opened my eyes, I was back in recovery and Dearest was holding my hand. I think I asked him how many eggs they got, he replied 10, and then I apparently demanded to be put back under. No such luck. I was pretty sore, truthfully, but once the nurse saw I was awake she said if I would eat some crackers I could take a Darvocet. I did, and that took the edge off. By 8:30 or so I was on my feet, Dearest helped me get my street clothes back on, and I again asked how many eggs they got, because I was very groggy the first time I asked and I wanted to be sure. He confirmed 10.
So now we have 10 little sparks sitting in a petri dish 30 miles away. (Boy, we left 'em with a babysitter young!) I can only hope that one of those sparks grows to be a flame. We will find out how many fertilized tomorrow. For now, I'm doing just fine.