It feels like Kismet. Fate. Today the Universe delivered. I got a call this afternoon that there is a cancellation next week and the clinic can fit me in for my initial consult. This is it. Here we are, September, when my life gets really chaotic. I have worked it so I only have to work out of town 2 days a week, and I have two semi-open and one completely open day. Thursdays are my day. Thursday is the opening. Score one for good luck.
As soon as I got off the phone I called my other half to make sure he'll be there. He needs to be there, and I accepted without even checking, but he didn't have any conflicts and I told him to mark it in his calendar. Score two for good luck.
My anxiety was subsiding already, and now I'm psyched! There is a lot to be anxious about. We are still waiting to hear about his surgery date. Will we get the chance to do anything before his surgery? Will they freeze and store his sperm? How does he feel about it? Should I buy a lotto ticket and make it a trifecta? The future is always uncertain, but everything always works out in the end.
Ironically, while my womb might get a dust-off, my aching old joints just ix-nayed my afternoon run plans.