Come on Irene

Some things are bigger than infertility.  Not much, I grant you.  As we all know, infertility (and the quest to overcome it) takes over your life and changes the way you see everything.  But some things are bigger.

Like hurricanes.  I live on the coast. And this bitch Irene may be headed our way.  There's nothing like the threat of natural disaster to put things in perspective.


I could write a post using hurricanes as a metaphor for the emotional turmoil of infertility and IVF....and now that I think about it, it IS an apt analogy for the effects of overstimulated hormones and how they can make you feel like an angry force of nature spinning out of control, but right now I'm more concerned about making sure we have enough batteries, candles, and canned goods in the cupboards.  Or gas in the car and a pet-friendly hotel on higher ground, because we may have to pack up and get out of town.

I've only had to evacuate once in fourteen years of coastal living, and it was terrifying to drive away from my house knowing it might not be there when I returned.  And back then I was only renting.  Now Mr Wren and I own our nest, and the thought of losing it is...well, unthinkable.

Forced to confront the possibility of losing everything, I realize just how much I have: a beautiful home, a sexy and supportive husband who ALSO does the dishes, a steady job that I love more often than hate, two crazy dogs giving me reasons to laugh every single day.  Of these, the house is the most dispensible and I will gladly leave it behind to keep myself, Mr Wren, and those furballs safe.

Before you become too alarmed, the latest forecast track indicates that we will be spared a direct hit, and Irene will be 150 miles offshore Friday night.  But -- the storm is 200 miles wide.  We still could be in harm's way.  The County just put us all on evacuation warning.  They may call for mandatory evacuation in the next 24 hours.

We have a plan and we'll be fine, but I can't stop thinking about all the women who are doing IVF at the local clinic right now. What if their egg retrieval or embryo transfer is scheduled for Saturday and there's a mandatory evacuation on Friday?   Poor C, the nurse coordinator who is probably fielding dozens of phone calls today from panicked IVF patients who were already very much on edge about their upcoming procedures and now have to worry about a hurricane of all things.

So, yeah.  If we have to pack up our dogs and our clothes and our wedding album and leave everything else behind, not knowing what we'll find when we return, I will be looking on the bright side:  at least I'm not not in the middle of an IVF cycle right now.