Now there are 8?

How does that happen? I started with 13 eggs, which became 7 embryos, which this morning are now 8 embryos. I hope that's a good thing. I was so dreading th ephone call this morning, expecting that I would hear that none of them had made it .. or only one or two. But to be told there are more, that's not at all a scenario I had run through in my mind.

"Roll up, roll up, the show's about to begin ..."

I think 2 of them don't sound very strong. She told me the details ('she' being the scientist I met on Wednesday who looked a bit like a supermodel): 3 eggs at 8 cells; 2 at 6 cells; 1 at 4 and 1 at 3. But, she who was nothing at all is now 5 cells! Supermodel Scientist said that if it fertilised a little later, then it could be a little behind (and it's already ahead of the other 2). I've decided that it's definitely a girl as only a girl would be that determined.

"And now, we get to see our star attraction, on the tightrope, juggling not 3, not 5, but 8 at one time! An amazing feat ladies and gentlemen, just watch the concentation on her face as she wills them to stay in the air!" My hands are sweating as I inch slowly forward, not daring to hope I will actually make it to the end. Tomorrow is taunting me on the platform again. "You can't catch me" he calls. Maybe not, but I'll be where you are now, and that's good enough for me.

My pain seems to be getting worse with each passing day, not better. On Thursday I felt quite fine, but by Friday afternoon I was feeling quite tender and bloated and today it's worse. I'm back to the heat pack and panadol and hanging the washing will just have to wait. I'm supposed to be going to a BBQ tonight with a group of AdventureBoys rowdy mates. It's only around the corner, but I just don't want to go. I feel like I would be letting him down, but the thought of their loud, ignorant, sarcastic, think they're funny behaviour sends me right now into a state of dread.

It's bad enough that I have a Christening to go to tomorrow. Don't get me wrong, the couple are two of our best friends, Mr and Mrs Designer Lifestyle. The thing of it is that she and I started trying together (and I had even been secretly trying before that). She had one miscarriage and now her gorgeous little girl is 3 months old. I love them all, but it's so hard. And I don't want to cry at a Christening (I don't actually want to cry anywhere!).

I think that's one of the hardest things. The friends who have all had success while I'm still walking the tightrope. Some didn't even have to go near the Big Top. The friend who started in the SAME MONTH as me whose daughter will be one this week. She's starting to think about number 2. The friend who had cancer and was told she might not be fertile again. She had 2 miscarriages, not taking away her pain, but now she's successfully pregnant. My secrecy leads her to say, on a regular basis, "when are you going to get up the duff? Hurry up, it would be so great if we could do it together". Always saying, "after everything I have been through", as if her pain is the only one that counts, cause it was out there. Visible. Communicated.

I suppose that's my fault. If she knew I know she would be a lot more sensitive, but I can't. I can't bear the sympathy of others at the best of times. I couldn't deal with the questions. The hopeful expressions. My mother, Rain on my Parade. AdventureBoy's mother, the Glamour Queen. My sisters, with their healthy sons.

So far we have told no-one. We mentioned that it might be the way we are heading to Mr and Mrs Designer Lifestyle, but have told told them about the tightrope yet. Our fabulous next door neighbours know about that much as well, although I'm thinking of going in there today for a cup of tea and a spill the beans. They're great. He is an anesthetist (sp?) and she is a teacher who has just completed her PhD and has been giving me a lot of help with mine. They have a funny little girl who insists she is a fairy and runs around the house constantly singing 'Everybody' or High-5 Xmas Carols (no matter the season) and another one due in May. But that's it. Strangely, I think somehow I totally trust these people. Their discretion and their not overbearing support.

My own sister (the one around the corner) is a gusher. Everything is "fabulous" or it's tears. She cries at TV comercials without hormonal influence and insists on touching you in every conversation. Her support would be oppressive and I would have to prop her up if it didn't work! I can't deal with her emotions as well as mine. I love her excessively, but this has to stay a secret. My other sister has her own burdens to carry. She has a disease which has not been labelled as MS, but has very similar symptoms. And her husband's a gambler, attending Gamblers Anonymous so that she doesn't leave him again.

I think every family has their dramas.

AdventureBoy's are no better, but there's time enough for them later. I need to go and squirt something in a place I'd rather not squirt to keep it all chugging along.