And then the phone rang

I woke up this morning at six. Got up and inserted progesterone where the sun don't shine. Went back to bed and read a few pages in my book until the letters bounced around on the page. D woke me up again at eight with a kiss and asked if I was hungry. Got up and had some juice and a yummy cheese and marmalade sandwich D had made - did I mention I have the most wonderful Hubster in the world? 

At nine thirty the phone rang and I nearly fell off the chair. It was Farmor and she just wanted to chat for a while. Pheuw! At ten-ish D and Pappa went to play golf. I helped Mamma start tonight's roast and fold some laundry while trying to not obsess about the phone. Eleven o'clock came and went and I started feeling a little hopeful that maybe, just maybe, the phone wouldn't ring. 

Eleven thirty loud ringing pierced the silence and I threw myself on the phone. A familiar voice said: "Circus Princess, this is nurse Inga." I held my breath and braced myself for bad news. "You know we don't normally call with good news... but I thought I'd make an exception for you so your husband don't fly back to England without knowing the results." Pause. "Are you there?" I managed to make some sort of noise and she continued: "We have five fertilized embryos!". 

I screamed, I laughed, and I cried and I hardly heard what she said after that. I rushed over to my Mamma and gave her a big hug. Finally I inhaled and composed myself enough to let her finish telling me how from now on they would leave the embryos alone to make their magic and not check on them until Sunday morning before transfer to decide which one has the best chance of success. I thanked her excessively before we hung up and immediately called D to tell him the good news. He laughed and said: "I guess that means I need to look into changing my return ticket. I would like to be there when my wife gets pregnant." Then I called my sister. She screamed as loud as I did. Now I can't seem to wipe this big smile off my face. I imagine the cells multiplying and turning into strong, healthy blastocysts while I whisper to my fantastic five: Divide and conquer, little acrobats, divide and conquer.