Chronicles from the waiting room

Have you ever felt strange while sitting in your RE's waiting room? You're surrounded by other women (sometimes spouses)....waiting for their turn for lab work, ultrasounds, encounters with the dildo cam as "a little sweetness" elegantly put - the transvag ultrasound. So there are numerous other women nearby you who are more similar to you than many of your closest family members and friends. Yet somehow....there is silence, no one is talking. No one is making eye contact. People are trying to keep busy reading random magazine articles they truly care nothing about. I read an article from Time Magazine yesterday that I can't recall a single fact from. Weird...I know.

You don't dare be the one to strike up a conversation. After all...Silence is Golden, isn't it? Yet you sit and wonder. Wonder what each women's story is. You wonder what they're thinking, how they're dealing, is there spouse being supportive, what treatment cycle are they on? What is their story? You know each has a story to tell...because you have a story to tell. Therefore, so must they.

Yesterday, another lady in the waiting room had scrubs on and a OR hat. I wondered...where does she work, is she a CRNA, a nurse in the OR, a physician...but yet I said nothing even though we both sat there in our similar scrubs, colorful OR caps, and tried to avoid one another's secret glances. She had a slight accent...had a darker complexion...perhaps she was from India? But other than that...I will not have any other glimpses into her journey. ...a journey that may mirror mine to a T. Most likely, she is feeling the same feelings that I am, the same constant disappointments and random moments of hopefulness. These are feelings that none of my closest family and friends have experienced...yet I talk to them all the time. But I can not bring myself to talk to her.

I decide a minute before the nurse calls me in for my moment with the dildo cam that I will begin the transition to the dark side. I catch the woman in the OR scrubs glancing at me. ( I have taken off my work badge and my sweatshirt that bears my name...just another attempt at remaining anonymous at a place I work...who am I kidding?). I meet her glance and smile. Wow..did I actually just make eye contact on purpose? Yes I had. Perhaps I felt more comfortable because at least we were wearing similar outfits? Then my offering was returned. She smiled back. In fact it wasn't just a smile...it was a grin of joy. We had connected. No further words were spoken. But at least we had connected. This connection helped me through my appointment with the dildo cam, my meeting with the nurse, and learning that my IUI #4 had to be cancelled.