Ok, now I can breathe.

I finally heard back from the RE. First, the doctor himself called to check on me and how I was feeling, following Mo's semi-frantic call last night. He offered again to call in some pain medication, but I declined. That stuff tends to make me very sick, and with Mo out of town tonight and tomorrow, I think I'll stick with what I can find around the house.

As we were hanging up, he asked me if I'd heard anything from the lab this morning. I said no, and admitted to being rather anxious (I neglected to tell him that I had spent the past 8 hours nervously pacing and practically pulling my hair out). He promised he'd check and call me right back.

Not two minutes later, the embryologist called (we'll call her Dr. Sarcastic, because she is, although in a funny I-could-be-friends-with-her kind of way). She got right to the point: 9 out of 10 fertilized! The relief I felt was practically physical. All the tension in my muscles literally drained and I took a deep breath. I think that the later they went without calling, the more I had convinced myself that something was wrong. I wouldn't have been surprised if they told me that NONE of them had fertilized. She apologized for being an absent-minded professor, and gave me her email address in case I had questions tomorrow. She also assured me that the lab would call me tomorrow morning with an update on how our embies are developing.

We're still likely on for a Day 3 transfer on Sunday morning. I just can't get over the fact that this is actually happening. This is the closest we've ever been to actually being pregnant-- for all we know, it's the very first time any of my eggs have ever given any of Mo's little swimmers anything more than a passing glance. :-)

Grow, little embies, grow. Momma loves you already.