My doctor got rid of the private entrance for infertility patients, but I now understand the appeal of the back door (wait, that didn’t come out right).
The phone rang. “Are you somewhere you can talk?” the nurse asked. With that, I already knew what she was going to say. Our first attempt at IVF, our first fresh cycle, had failed. Is there an upside to this? I try my damnedest to find a few positives in this crappy, shit-loaded situation.