Sunday night we celebrated the idea that our parts may have just met for the first time, ever. The doctor said she would call on Monday, after noon. We waited anxiously for the phone to ring – my stomach with butterflies every time I’d remember between attempts at distracting myself with work. They came often. Finally she called and Gordon answered. She started telling him everything, but knowing I wanted to know first he passed me the phone. She talks so fast and continuously that she didnt even realize he passed me the phone. “Hello?…” and she’s still talking in Serbian, so she doesn’t even know I’m there.  “Hello?” I interject, only when she finally pauses for a breath.She continues to repeat in English what she told Gordon. We have a healthy egg. That was the bottom line. The sperm had been injected, but we had to wait to see that the cells would start dividing.  I was so relieved to know that my egg was healthy. When I got off the phone, I told Gordon and his brother and went with them to tell Gordon’s mom. I cried and she hugged me. I was trembling. I was so relieved.

The next few days wouldn’t be nearly as rewarding. She said she’d call back Tuesday and that we’d do the transfer Tuesday or Wednesday. When she finally called back on Tuesday evening, she said they were still waiting for the cells to divide. She said it was at some stage she couldn’t translate into English. Naturally this time I answered the phone so there wouldn’t be any phone juggling to contend with, and Gordon left the room. I hung up and was so frustrated that I couldn’t really know what was happening because she couldn’t tell me in English. Gordon tried calling back. Three times, each time he was told the doctor was with a patient, and to try calling back in 10-15 minutes. Finally he left his name and asked for a return call when she could.

Against our wishes, his mom called the doctor after that without our knowing it. She called Gordon to the terrace where she’s been propped most of the time now. He came back to call me, and I could tell he was angry. “She called.” he said, and I knew what he meant.  She told us that they said the cells still hadn’t divided, but they were giving it until Wednesday morning between 9-9:30. That was the longest they could wait.  I was so angry to feel like I wasn’t the first person to learn this. This is my body, and my issue. I really felt violated. Then I felt the sadness of the reality that it had already been too long, and that the cells should have started dividing by now.