Hello embie!

Thawed from carbonite, Han Solo rises again! OK, actually floating in a culture medium, but still. Of the 3 eggs retrieved yesterday, one has fertilized and color me happy! The 2 "surprise" eggs, while I couldn't help but hope for a miracle, were likely immature and I knew they probably wouldn't fertilize. I wish I had gotten a dozen eggs and embies, but I have to say that Han Solo has been a superstar so far. Greedily hogging the FSH buffet, making it through retrieval and now succumbing to one of 75,000 potential boyfriends who attended last night's rave with her. She's a gluttonous tramp, just how I want her right now.

I'll spend the next 43 hours terrified of the phone, worried that the lab might call about arrested development. But at least tomorrow is Friday (hooray!), my in-laws are coming in the afternoon to house hunt on the Cape over the weekend, so I'll be somewhat distracted. I'll go off to the transfer on Saturday at 11 a.m., with pre and post acupuncture appointments while NoodleGuy looks at houses with his parents. House hunting is not his very favorite activity (would be much more up my alley) but considering the weird houses that FIL was liking last time we went looking, some intervention is clearly needed.

NoodleGuy has a hockey game tonight (he plays) so I'm left to my own devices, but that means I can FINALLY watch the Grey's Anatomy finale which I had been saving for while I convalesced after ER, but never got around to it yesterday. I can't watch it with NG because in between getting sucked in by the wily writers, he feels the need to shriek over the girl-rock music and goofy dialogue. Our marriage is much happier when I can watch my shows without the peanut gallery pretending to dry heave in the background.

But back to the main reason for this post. Grow embie grow! For today at least, I'm a mom.