Transfer day

I have been weeping since I started progesterone. It'll take something relatively small to start it off, but once it starts, I can't stop.

I also feel absolutely foul. I have that horrible hair-sticky-up, too-hot, bad-tempered feeling that's similar to very bad PMT. I couldn't wear makeup to the clinic and my face looks like corned beef.

Despite all of this, I thought it would work out fine if I drove myself to the clinic because we couldn't get childcare.

We didn't want to ask my parents as to be honest, driving myself up was less stressful than explaining to them. They had, coincidentally, tried to invite themselves over today to drop off a toy the Boy had left there at the weekend, but I said it was a bad time as we'd be out.

The drive involves going along the motorway and then taking a complicated route around the edges of the city centre. I was feeling relatively pleased with myself when I managed to get there without going the wrong way once.

I started crying when I got into the fucking clinic, and then I was sort of low level sniffling for most of the time I was there.

To make matters worse, I used to get a weird twitch in my leg when I was giving presentations at work. This stopped a few years ago.

But when I was in the stirrups and had the catheter in, my fucking leg started trembling. I'm not consciously doing it so I can't stop doing it either.

I hate my leg. Fuck sake, leg, letting the side down.

The staff didn't mention the weird shaky leg thing but they were like "Aha! You've stopped crying" a couple of times. Which immediately set me off again.

When I set off for home, I went the wrong way straight away. So I had to double back.

Then a roundabout appeared when I didn't expect it and I realised I had was somehow driving into the city centre rather than onto the motorway.

Finally, I got back onto the right route and decided it would be a good idea to stop at a shopping centre on the way home.

This was a good plan until I couldn't find a parking space and then accidentally drove into another car while looking for one.

Mercifully at low speed and only with slight damage to both cars, but probably not a recommended course of action in any of the books I used to read about increasing one's IVF chances through meditation and eating mung beans.

So, the actual transfer seemed to go pretty well. But I am SO getting my husband to come next time.

When I got home my mum had left the toy in a bag in our back garden, along with, inexplicably, a bottle of chilli sauce.