Yesterday evening as we were going to bed I glanced at the clock. “It’s time for my injection, I guess,” I observed to my husband. “I feel like I shouldn’t even bother.”

Today on my lunch break I immediately called the insurance company. I sat on hold for half an hour, waiting to speak to someone. I practiced my deep breathing.

The guy who answered the phone put me on hold to find out the status of my authorization. He came back and said, “Ms. St. Jean, that authorization’s status is pending.” Frustrated tears welled up in my eyes. Tomorrow is a holiday, I need my meds Friday. “Well,” he said to me, “It can take up to 15 days for these things.”

I called the IVF insurance coordinator, maybe should could help. Her voice mail said she is out of the office from the 25th to the 28th. I hung up without leaving a message. I called and left a message for the nurses instead. My words were flat. “I don’t know what else to do,” I said, holding back tears as I paced in the small break room. I guess that’s it, said the voice in my head. That’s the end of it.

I helped customers the next three hours. I kept my phone close by – on vibrate so no one else would notice, but hopefully I would be able to take a break and catch it. In between customers I just sat and stared blankly at the wall. Maybe the universe is just telling me that I’m not meant to have children. This is just too much. And yeah, happy fucking Thanksgiving.

At around 3pm I returned to my seat after filing some paperwork and checked my phone, as had become habit. There was a message. I cursed to myself – it figures, it rung in the 60 seconds I was 10 feet away. I hastily excused myself to my co-workers and ran into the back to listen to my message. I didn’t even notice if there were customers waiting.

“Hi Natalie!” the nurse greeted me perkily on the voicemail. “I called your insurance and spoke with so-and-so from Authorizations and she’s approved one cycle. She gave me the authorization number. So you should be all set to order your medications. Friday’s really busy, so why don’t you come in Saturday morning for your baseline if that works for you?”

Did your breath just catch too? I clutched the phone and danced around and called Den to blurt out, “I’m approved for one cycle!!” Then I had to quickly run back to my desk and pretend nothing strange had just happened.

The nurse did say that they haven’t figured out if ICSI is approved yet, but my first thought was “Who cares??” They have two weeks to figure that one out. And if they don’t it’s not the end of the world – I’m not entirely convinced ICSI is needed anyways (but it’s an aweful nice safety net when you only have one good embryo).

I feel really quite… exhausted. Den was a little perplexed when I arrived home with a very short attitude about me. “But it’s good news!” he said. “It’s happy! Yay!” And, it is. Trust me, it is, I’m relieved and happy and so many things. But… I think I’ve been kicked too many times. I’m a bit bruised. I’m a bit pissed off at having just been through the wringer for all of this. And I’m not feeling all that trusting that this is going to work out still. I’m peering around corners wondering what else is coming for me.

But as of now my baseline is set for Saturday morning, and I’ll start stims that evening. My period is just getting started now, so as far as timing goes it’s about perfect.

By the skin of my teeth, people. By the skin of my teeth.