Another Day, Another Building… Still Waiting

Well, here we are—egg collection day. I’ve made it. I’m sitting in another waiting room, in gown (with my butt half hanging out), waiting to be wheeled into surgery. And honestly? I’m feeling nervous, excited, scared, and about six other things I can’t quite put into words.

Let’s rewind a bit.

Scan day was a success. Thirteen follicles—boom, baby! The doctor called it a perfect scan, which felt amazing to hear… but then came the big “but.”

She wasn’t sure if they’d go ahead with the collection because I was still sick with this bloody flu. She needed to speak with the anaesthetist and see if it was safe to proceed. The call could’ve gone either way.

So, the last 48 hours have been a real one step at a time kind of deal. No plans, no guarantees—just waiting to see what my body would do. Thankfully, I’ve improved enough to be cleared for surgery today. Still not 100%, but better. Good enough.

So yes, here I am, sitting in the surgery waiting room, wrapped in the most glorious heated blanket (seriously, why aren’t these sold to the general public?), gown on, butt out, trying not to think about food or water… because I’m starving and parched, of course.

And now, I wait. My collection is scheduled for 9:15am. It’s funny how time flies when you want it to slow down, and slows to a crawl when all you want is for the clock to hurry up. Every second feels like an eternity right now.

It’s quiet in here. Everyone is sitting, waiting—some nervously scrolling their phones, others just staring at the floor. Not much chit-chat. We’re all strangers, but we’re all here for something similar, carrying our own fears and hopes. It’s strange how silence fills spaces like this. I wonder why we don’t talk more—maybe we’re too tired, too overwhelmed, or maybe we just don’t know what to say.

Anyway… here’s hoping for a smooth collection and strong, healthy eggs. Whatever happens from here, I’m proud of how far we’ve come.

Bring it on, 9:15.