Back to School Edition (Part III)

I feel like I'm shifting gears every 30 seconds or so, moving from writer to teacher to mother to person-trying-to-get-pregnant.

My first day? Dragged LG out of the house at 7:30 am to buy the freaking parking sticker. Stood in line--it was OUT THE DOOR--behind a bunch of undergrad athletes, only to find out that, sure, I can get a parking sticker but my GATE CARD will not work (which makes the sticker fairly pointless) for the next few days, possibly a week. So I dropped LG off at school--she cried at the window--and managed to find a parking space, within walking distance of my office, in an ungated area. Then proceeded the last minute assembling of handouts (there are always more poems to copy!).

Taught one class.

Came back from class. Finished assembling materials for second class. Ate lunch. Chatted with Best Professor Friend.

Raced to car, with materials for my second class, to the appointment with fertility specialist. Explained--again--to everyone who would listen that I needed to be back on campus so if he could squeeze me in early, that would be great.

The stars aligned. We chatted. Came up with a protocol I'm okay with (and Wonderful Former RE agrees with). He checked out my ovaries, gave me a test requisition and sent me on my way.

Miraculously, I found a parking space within walking distance of class. And I got there EARLY.

Taught. One of my good, energetic first day discussions. A class of all women!!!

Drove across campus, parked illegally in a metered space, and grabbed the rest of the crap from my office. Picked up LG, and home for dinner (pizza for her, leftovers for me).

Today was much the same, minus the teaching. Lots of writing, interspersed with phone calls about the baby plan, blood tests, and purchasing of B6.

But you know? WFRE said "Life must be good!" when I told her about my plans. And you know, I think she's right!

It's just past 7:00. LG is down for the count. I've got prepping to do, and house cleaning, and dealing with the fact that our fish might have expired (he was bleeding?! from his face a while ago). Tomorrow there will be more writing, phone calling, emailing, housecleaning, and probably some crashing in front of the TV.

1 down, 15 to go...