A Day In The Life of an IF-er

6:00 a.m. -- Alarm goes off.

6:01 a.m. -- Cursing, roll over and hit snooze. Yelp when you accidentally smoosh your left breast.

6:09 a.m. -- Alarm goes off again.

6:10 a.m. -- Decide it's too cold to get out of bed. Hit snooze again.

6:11 a.m. -- Realize your spouse has stolen all the covers. Punch him/her in the arm and forcibly steal them back.

6:18 a.m. -- Alarm goes off for the third time.

6:20 a.m. -- Discover that your T-shirt is drenched in sweat. Kick off all your covers and relish the breeze.

6:21 a.m. -- Stumble into the kitchen and pour yourself a cup of coffee.

6:22 a.m. -- Get pissed off all over again when you realize it's decaf.

6:23 a.m. -- Assemble daily medications and supplies.

6:25 a.m. -- Poke stomach and look for a spot that is less tender than the others.

6:26 a.m. -- Give up and pick the least purple spot.

6:27 a.m. -- Briefly consider the benefits of a heroin addict, given how often you are shooting up anyway.

6:28 a.m. -- Decide the negatives outweigh the benefits. Determine to stick to Lupron, Gonal-F, and Menopur only.

6:30 a.m. -- Return to the bedroom to get dressed.

6:45 a.m. -- Sit on the floor of your closet crying because not a single pair of pants you own will button.

6:50 a.m. -- Pull on the same pair of black, elastic-waist pants you have worn for the past five days.

6:55 a.m. -- Decide that every single shirt you put on makes you look bloated.

6:56 a.m. -- Realize that it's not the shirt. You ARE bloated.

7:00 a.m. -- Brush hair and teeth.

7:01 a.m. -- Dab spot treatments across the sudden flare-up of acne on your nose and chin. Think, "Aren't I too old for this?"

7:03 a.m. -- Apply base, concealer, and powder to said acne.

7:10 a.m. -- Head out the door for your morning doctor's appointment.

7:30 a.m. -- Arrive at the RE. Greet each nurse by name. Ask about their children, whom you seem to know intimately.

7:35 a.m. -- Put down TIME magazine. Give into guilty pleasures as you peruse Parenting instead.

7:45 a.m. -- Empty bladder.

7:46 a.m. -- Get undressed. Neatly fold your clothes on a chair, being careful to discreetly cover up your panties. Smile to
yourself at the irony of this action.

7:48 a.m. -- Put on flimsy paper robe and sit delicately on the table.

7:50 a.m. -- Review chart of the stages of pregnancy. Realize that you have it memorized.

7:59 a.m. -- The nurse arrives!

8:00 a.m. -- Lay back on the table, exposing your goodies to whomever is in the room.

8:01 a.m. -- Make idle chit-chat with the RE, ultrasound tech, and new nurse intern as they all examine your goodies.

8:02 a.m. -- Realize you forgot to shave your legs last night. Consider apologizing. Decide instead to ignore it.

8:03 a.m. -- Turn your attention to the ultrasound monitor. Try to count follicles.

8:04 a.m. -- Realize that you have no idea what you're looking for. Ask the tech how things are "shaping up in there."

8:05 a.m. -- Nurse is noncommittal. Wonder if that means you're going to have to cancel.

8:07 a.m. -- Nurse hands you a pink slip and tells you that you can get dressed.

8:08 a.m. -- Wipe.

8:09 a.m. -- Pull back on despised elastic-waist pants and blouse.

8:10 a.m. -- Cheerfully wave goodbye to nurses on your way out. Promise you'll see them again soon!

8:30 a.m. -- Arrive at work.

10:00 a.m. -- Pretend to be working on your computer. Instead, read infertility blogs using Google reader.

12:00 p.m. -- Ditch your Lean Cuisine and opt instead for a cheeseburger. You'll have reason soon enough to gain weight, right?

12:30 p.m. -- Feel guilty about eating fast food. Decide to take a brisk walk.

12:35 p.m. -- Realize you have a raging headache. Debate the necessity of taking anything for it.

12:40 p.m. -- Return to work.

1:00 - 3:00 p.m. -- Pretend to work while you wait patienty for your cell phone to ring.

3:00 p.m. -- Decide you can't wait any longer. Take a bathroom break.

3:05 p.m. -- Return to your desk. Check cell for missed calls.

3:06 p.m. -- See that you missed a call from your RE.

3:07 p.m. -- Return call to RE. Get voicemail.

3:08 p.m. -- Leave long-winded. rambling message. Forget to mention your name or chart number.

3:15 p.m. -- Realize you forgot to give your name or chart number.

3:16 p.m. -- Call RE back.

3:17 p.m. -- Get answering service. Leave a message.

4: 00 p.m. -- Call RE again.

4:30 p.m. -- Call RE again.

4:45 p.m. -- Call RE again.

4:59 p.m. -- Call RE for the last time, you swear.

5:00 p.m. -- Head home.

5:15 p.m. -- Blare your horn at the person in front of you who is driving too slow. Flip the bird.

5:30 p.m. -- Arrive home. Change into baggy sweats.

5:35 p.m. -- Consider preparing a healthy, well-balanced meal.

5:36 p.m. -- Grab the Ben & Jerry's instead.

5:45 p.m. -- Hear cell phone ringing in the next room. Leap over furniture and step on the dog as you race for it.

5:46 p.m. -- Breathily answer the telephone. Try not to cry when you realize its your sister.

5:52 p.m. -- Hang up with sister. Glare at the telephone.

5:58 p.m. -- See the RE's phone number flashing on the cell phone. Take a deep breath, and answer.

5:58 p.m. and 30 seconds -- Hang up the phone. Head back to your stash of drugs.

6:00 p.m. -- Turn the dial on your Follistim pen to increase your dose. Realize you've dialed too much.

6:01 p.m. -- Cursing, try to dial it back. Start crying when liquid gold spurts out of your pen.

6:02 p.m. -- Hand your Follistim pen to your husband for disassembly.

6:12 p.m. -- FINALLY stick yourself with your evening dose. Ignore your husband's ogling of your bruised, swollen stomach.

6:15 p.m. -- Turn on the evening news.

6:18 p.m. -- Cry at the story about the abandoned kitten.

6:25 p.m. -- Bawl at the story about the woman who just gave birth to quintuplets.

6:30 p.m. -- Peruse TV guide to weed out any potential pregnancy, babies, or child-related story lines on your favorite prime-
time shows.

6:45 p.m. -- Realize that the only thing "safe" are cartoons.

7:00 p.m. -- Flip to the Disney channel.

7:03 p.m. -- Turn off the television when you realize they are playing "Muppet Babies."

7:05 p.m. -- Take your laptop to bed with you, deciding to catch up on your favorite blogs.

7:45 p.m. -- Slam your laptop closed in disgust after enviously reading the excited "I'm PREGNANT!" postings of your former-IF internet-friends.

8:00 p.m. -- Lie in bed counting days until potential transfer, and then resulting due dates. Avoid allowing yourself to consider names, however.

8:00 to 10:00 p.m. -- Fall into a fitful, restless sleep, from which you will undoubtedly wake several times before morning.

**Repeat as many times as necessary until a satisfactory result is achieved. In the event that the desired outcome remains elusive, DO NOT use hormonal imbalance as a defense for murdering well-meaning (yet insensitive, ignorant, or just plain STUPID) friends or family members.