Stephanie got the phonecall from Reproductive Science Center just as I was heading into my doctor’s office to have my ears looked at. So, while I was certainly interested in finding a remedy for the pain and fullness in my ears, I spent most of the visit preoccupied with thoughts of the phone conversation going on just down the hall. Would it be bad news? Good news? I didn’t know. Would Stef be pissed off at me for pointing out that you had to go out into the hall to use a cellphone when the phone rang, just before I got up to head into an exam room?

The doctor explained that I had swimmer’s ear and we spent far too much time trying to find my local pharmacy in his little handheld computer, when he could’ve just printed the damn prescription out. He also had suggestions to make as far as finding a local doctor soon, reminding me that, while today’s visit wasn’t all that inconvenient, things wouldn’t be so pleasant if I had an emergency. I let him talk, but I wasn’t listening.

When he finally relented to his computer’s uncooperativeness and gave me a printed version of the prescription, I hurried myself out of there so that Stef could give me the news. Earlier in the day, I had seen for myself how well she’d been doing—I’d gone with her to her ultrasound and marveled at all the follicles growing inside of her—but I was still worried that the news would be bad, that they’d called to cancel our cycle or something.

The news was good: We were to administer what they call the “trigger” shot at 9 PM. Saturday would be our first day off from shots in a long while. And then Sunday would be the big day, the day they retrieved her eggs. My ears were driving me nuts, but this news sunk in really quickly: They’d be helping us make a baby on Father’s Day.

Despite my lack of belief in a higher power, I do sometimes see a certain poetry in the way life works out. Sure, a million things could still go wrong. But how perfect would it be to conceive a child, albeit in a very nontraditional way, on a holiday celebrating fathers?

Anyway, I’m glad it’s all working out. My ears are a total mess. I can barely hear because of all the wax and water and medicine that’s clogging them. My hope is that I’ll be at least somewhat better by Sunday. I can’t imagine trying to focus on my part of the procedure, on the task at hand, as it were, while my ears were causing me this much pain.

It’s all happening…