So, you’re probably wondering how it went. The Consultation.
We are still wondering out loud if it actually happened.
My guardian angel charms, rosaries and novena cards my mother smothered me with during treatment are long since discarded or lost. Neither myself nor my husband even subscribe to a religion. But we can’t help feeling that the day was charmed; that someone or something somewhere was watching us and guiding us through the beginning of what seems like it’s going to be one hell of an adventure.
We sat in a small, cozy room all afternoon as the doctor, the shrink, the nurse, and others paraded through with new pieces of information and new papers to add to our folders. Every single person was patient and kind and didn’t leave the room until we were finished probing them with questions and scenarios. The psychiatrist successfully eased my husband’s biggest anxiety of the day when she mapped out an alternative driving route home which avoided rush hour traffic.
They told us we are perfect candidates for the egg donation program; The program was made for people in situations like ours. Our youth works in our favor. As does the fact that we have made a conscious effort to get fit.
Music to our ears.
At the end of the day, we began looking through donor profiles and found the perfect match. The very first profile we saw. It felt right. It is right. I really can’t describe how elated we are. And that’s all I’m going to say, until she is contacted, says yes, the meds are ordered and the process begins. No jinx. No jinx.
My god, this is exciting.
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