Sunday morning appointment.

Back at the clinic. This morning, I saw Dr. S, who is my own personal IVF cheerleader. He was sporting a cut in the middle of his tanned forehead, the result of a minor accidentinvolving a soccer ball and his daughter's cleats.

The first thing Dr. S said to me was, "You just keep continuing to defy your age!" (I told you. Cheerleader. Which is what you want when you're going through IVF.) I thought he was going to jump for joy when he saw the number of follicles I had. Really, I could produce a litter. (My words, not his.)

I'm afraid to get too hopeful.