Okay. Had to blog about this experience. Yesterday was my CD3, so I headed over to the hospital that had agreed to draw my blood. As I pulled into the hospital, I thought "Hmmm, there are a lot of cars here for a Saturday..." That's when I saw the big sign: "Expecting Great Things" which just so happens to be the premier annual event for expectant mothers at the hospital. It should be noted that this hospital is the best maternity hospital in the city (which is also where my OB/GYN is affiliated, so maybe that could be a good thing in the future). But back to the present: prego bellies everywhere, little kids running around (greedy fertiles), lots of DHs (apparently there was an "American Dadiator" diaper changing contest and grill giveaways), big white tents, and so much more. I parked on the opposite side of the hospital as far away from the festivities as one could possibly get. Thanks universe.
As if that part wasn't bad enough, Part 2: I went up to the clinical lab to get blood drawn. Everything was going great--it seemed I was the only person at all in the hospital getting labs drawn. Made friends with phlebotomist. Sat down in lobby to wait for blood to clot, then have new phlebotomist friend spin it down in the centrifuge machine, give it back to me, and then I would be on my way. But, all of a sudden, the door opens and in walks a lady and her adorable 3 year old daughter. She was so darn cute. Red hair, curls dangling, cute clothes, etc. She immediately came over to me while her Mom was checking in. Our convo pretty much went as follows:
Child: "What's in your box?"
Me: "I've got ice in my cooler." Blood had to be iced immediately after being centrifuged.
Child: "Can I see?"
Me: "Sure." Open up cooler and show her ice packs.
Child: "Why are you here?"
Me: "I had some blood drawn."
Child: "Are you sick?"
Child: "What's wrong with you?
Me: "I'm just having some tests run."
Child: "Okay. Do you have kids?"
Me: "No." Uncomfortably, I start looking around for the Mother.
Child: "Do you like kids?"
Me: "Yes. Very, very much. I'd like to have a little girl like you some day."
Child: "Then, why don't you have kids?" Mother finally arrives to sit next to us.
Me: "I'm trying to have a child. It isn't easy for me. That's why I'm here. On a Saturday. When everyone else is outside celebrating their pregnancies."
Mother: "Oh honey, come here and leave the nice lady alone. I'm so sorry. I have a friend who had trouble conceiving. It was really hard on her. She saw a fertility specialist and now has a little one. Have you seen one yet?"
Me: "Yes, for almost the entire last year. That's why I'm here. My new doctor is very thorough and requires labs to be drawn and sent only to his lab for testing."
Mother: "Oh, where is your new doctor?"
Mother: "Do you live here?"
Mother: "Wow. That's so far away. There is a doctor in Cincy that is supposed to be very good. I think his name is Awadalla. Have you heard of him?"
Me: I was just getting ready to reply with Awadouchebag sucks and then...
Phlebotomist: "Mrs. Waltrip, you're all ready to go."
So, of all the days of the week for my CD3 to fall, it was a Saturday. No one else would draw my stupid blood except for this hospital. This date happened to coincide with the only maternity event at this hospital ALL YEAR. Then, I get to play 20 questions with a 3 year old and later her mother. Which brings me to one of the two following conclusions: 1) the universe hates me and loves mocking me more than anything or 2) with the maternity event being held at the hospital where I would deliver if I could ever get pg on the same day that I had to show up for CD3 b/w, and then I get to answer questions from a 3 year old and her mother in order to bear my soul and make me feel like a complete failure, equals a change in my luck. Who knows? I'd like to think positively that it's my luck changing...
3 weeks ago