Results were supposed to be in this Wednesday. No results. Waited till Thursday to annoy the clinic, “Results today, for sure, Mrs. Fiend.” Ack! I worked on the computer with the phone perched six inches away from me. At 10:00 a telemarketer called. I replied viciously, venting six years of the aggravation, frustration and nastiness that I stockpile exclusively for people trying to sell me crap over the phone.
At noon another marketing company called wanting me to answer a survey. I fumed. I decided that those bastards from Ikea sold my phone number despite my written request to withhold it. I will send them such a vituperative letter. Anyway, at 12:30 Tennisfiend called, “Are the results in?” Poor sweet guy, I was cross with him. Ten minutes later, my Mom called, “How are you doing?” Poor woman, I was practically hysterical with her.
To empower myself, I bounced phone calls back and forth to Women’s Medical for the next two hours. At three thirty, a harassed receptionist called me to say that the fax arrived, and that all the results were normal. No Down’s Syndrome, Trisonomy 13 or other serious birth defects.
What a relief! I was so grateful and effusive with my thank-yous that I almost made the receptionist feel less annoyed. At last I feel like this is a “real” pregnancy. After three miscarriages, I can't begin to describe my joy over the positive test results. Now to make amends to my loved ones and order a truckload of maternity clothes. Yay!
At noon another marketing company called wanting me to answer a survey. I fumed. I decided that those bastards from Ikea sold my phone number despite my written request to withhold it. I will send them such a vituperative letter. Anyway, at 12:30 Tennisfiend called, “Are the results in?” Poor sweet guy, I was cross with him. Ten minutes later, my Mom called, “How are you doing?” Poor woman, I was practically hysterical with her.
To empower myself, I bounced phone calls back and forth to Women’s Medical for the next two hours. At three thirty, a harassed receptionist called me to say that the fax arrived, and that all the results were normal. No Down’s Syndrome, Trisonomy 13 or other serious birth defects.
What a relief! I was so grateful and effusive with my thank-yous that I almost made the receptionist feel less annoyed. At last I feel like this is a “real” pregnancy. After three miscarriages, I can't begin to describe my joy over the positive test results. Now to make amends to my loved ones and order a truckload of maternity clothes. Yay!
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