6w5d

Oy, I should be in bed, but I had a busy day. Ended up chatting with the grad student prospect for SIX hours at a restaurant. We completely lost track of time, and DH was in a wild panic when I got home because he'd forgotten I'd be out, so he thought I'd miscarried and was lying unconscious in an ER somewhere. Poor guy; he was so upset. So now he says that until further notice I have to provide a note every time I leave our apartment, even if it's just to do the laundry or to run my morning errands. Because he said he's worried about me. And 'the guy.'

I exclaimed, "But you say the guy isn't yours!"

He said grudgingly, "If you promise to leave me a note every time you go, and that you'll never be late, then I'll say something nice."

I said, "Ok, I promise."

He mumbled under his breath: It'smyguy. And then he ran away. lol

The student and I had a good time, though; we really hit it off and chatted about everything. Since DH and I moved out here two years ago (where we didn't know a single soul), I haven't spent much time with real-life women friends, and I missed that kind of companionship.

Oddly, at the beginning, she popped a white pill and then mentioned briefly that she was recently diagnosed with an endocrine disorder that was freaking her out. I was too polite to press the issue, but most of you will know what I was thinking. Later, she mentioned it again, so I said that I had PCOS - just to see what reaction that would get me - and she said, "Me, too!" She's scared about it: worried that she'll never have kids. I reassured her. Honestly, unless she's got a complicating condition, like endo or male factor or whatever, she stands a great chance of becoming fertile, especially since Met kicked in for her right away, and she's being proactive with her lifestyle. I said there are no guarantees, of course, but odds are that something would eventually work, though it might take more time and effort and money.

And she wanted to know my poor sob story on IF, and was so gracious about it all: no condescension or judgements. It was such a novelty to talk about this to a live person. Anyway, so that was a funny coincidence.

Then we went to a stag and doe party, and the groom's sister, as it turns out, also has PCOS. She's been through a ton of IF treatments, but has never familiarized herself with her condition or with her DH's male factor. So I gave her my e-mail address and told her to ask away, but only if she wanted to (since she looked drained). She said she would, though, because she wanted my input.

Funny: I never meet people who say they have PCOS, and today I ran into two. Although I do sometimes see women on the street whom I know in my gut have a bad - and probably undiagnosed - case of PCOS; I always wish I could say something, but of course there's never a kosher way to do that.

The party itself was fun. Though all of DH's colleagues were there, and they all know about us. So it was very, very very strange to receive quiet congratulations and hugs. Steve's favourite colleague, the groom, even gently rubbed my belly; he was a bit teary-eyed and said, "That is for good luck from me." I felt very awkward about it all; as though I were a real, normal pregnant woman receiving congratulary words and gestures from friends and acquaintances. Too much too soon. It was surreal and I didn't know how to react. I hope it lasts, but that goes without saying.

Was so bloated this evening - I was hiding my stomach with a strategic placement of my jacket and my purse. Because I really look pregnant. I'm wondering if the OHSS is kicking in? As naive as this might sound, I'm kinda hoping it is - it probably means that my HCG is still increasing. I know I should not 'hope' for this, though - fluid in my abdomen would not be good. So if it's the same tomorrow, I'll e-mail my nurse.

I also look as though the Acne God spread his bum all over my forehead (and nose, for that matter). I am sadistically pleased.

And, to end the day, I just saw that my cousin - who had almost the same due date as my original one - had her baby. It's all over Babybook (aka: Facebook). I don't think about what I should look by now, at nine months pg.

I want good news for myself, too! And for all of you!