Today my Dr called to tell me if my goldfish has become a tadpole. Yes I’m totally mixing metaphors. Goldfish don’t become tadpoles. But tadpoles don’t really fit in with my circus/carnival theme so thank you for pointing that out.
When I called them, they said when they checked it this morning, it was a morula with too many cells to count easily, meaning it’s almost a blastocyst but not quite. It’s still compacting. So they are going to culture it another day or so. You can read what a morula is here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Morula
A day 6 blast is not as good as a day 5 blast but its better than nothing and it is my first blast.
Then while I was at Costco with my husband, they called twice in 5 minutes but left no message (stupid concrete building my phone didn’t ring) So I don’t know maybe it became a blast, maybe something happened. They didn’t leave a message and they are closed on Sundays.
To keep myself from freaking out, I’m going to take a left turn. Why do people go to Costco on the weekends? I mean seriously, its people that can barely drive a shopping cart much less a car, the parking lot is always a nightmare, people stand like vultures over a tray of toothpicks in cheese and frankly I’m not sure how anyone gets in or out of there without requiring a bail bondsman. But then, maybe that’s just me.
Christmas eve day, after my husband announced he had no gift for his mother to which I said “Wait what? I bought her something months ago” He replied ” I hid it in E’s room and she thought it was for her and wore it to school, so we have to get something else” I stared at him and said ” there are 4 bedrooms in this house, and 2 of them are empty, and both have closets, and you put it in your daughters closet? Really?” Anyhow, we wound up at Costco, where there was a line forming behind some couple and their very slow walking grandfather, because the guy at the door was giving away those booze coupons. I got in the line, stood there for a minute and thought “Why am I in this line? The door is 4 carts wide, and I don’t want any booze coupons” so I proceeded to enter the store.
The elderly gentleman in front of me didn’t like that, so he came up to me while my husband was looking at the slipper display and said loudly “YOU CUT IN LINE. THERE WAS A LINE, BLAH BLAH BLAH” for about 3 minutes calling me names and generally pointing out what a despicable human being I am. To which I replied “Merry Christmas!” He stomped off, I told the husband that he was going to take me home and he could find his mother a gift on his own. Shocker, all the slippers in his mother’s size were gone anyway.
The point of this story is why Costco is generally Lucifer‘s Emporium. They are all made of concrete and my phone doesn’t ring when I am inside them.
I will have to wait until Monday to find out what happened. In the meantime, Happy St. Patricks Day to those of you who are Irish by birth, choice or injection. Tomorrow is my wedding anniversary. Happy Anniversary to the love of my life, my best friend, my partner in crime and the only person I want to see when I get up in the morning and when I go to bed at night. I love you. Thank you for letting me be the crazy one