The fertility specialist's office called me back. My initial consultation has been scheduled for August. Seriously? August?
I knew there would be a bit of a wait to see a highly regarded specialist but THREE MONTHS? Shit.
It's my own fault for procrastinating for so long. A smarter woman would have realized that whole "summer vacation" thing might be an issue. August.
That means I'll spend at least three more months obsessively peeing on sticks (because we all know much I like to do that) for several days a month, crossing my fingers and hoping there's really nothing wrong. August... is really, really far away.
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