Sitting in that waiting room today, both of us staring ahead not needing to talk about the salad of rollercoaster excited feelings in the air, a good, warm and hopeful feeling... that light at the end of a tunnel... Until a woman rushed through reception in tears. She was pleading with the receptionist. She had had a rough year she says and why has she received "this letter" she asks.. "I'll get on the phone to the IVF clinic now" says the receptionist. 10 seconds later another woman walks in.. "I have an appointment with Dr so and so", she says. "Dr so and so doesn't work Fridays" says the receptionist... "I've travelled from across the other side of London" says the angry and now also in tears other woman. It dawned on me in that exact moment that I've had it too easy, this can't be it can it? Surgery.. check! Scan.. check! HSG.. check! Blood work.. check! Consent forms.. check??? Surely, one person can't suck up all that luck. I break the silence with "Lets go home, I have a bad feeling about this". "What? Don't worry it's just signing papers today baby" says Andy. "Jane!" I hear the doctor shout my name half a second later and as we follow her down the hall and into her office I want to turn my heels and head the other way. "Take a seat Jane" she says... "Your HSG actually showed presence of polyps".. my face flushes red and I can feel my throat closing... "When was your last polypectomy, Jane?"... "Oh, April... OK will need to perform another one"... I want her to shut up and stop talking but most of all I don't want her or Andy to see me cry. So, I nod. "Small procedure within the next month.. IVF in 2 months.. if the polyps are all gone and if your thyroid levels go up to atleast 2.5" I catch her saying as my brain pops up for air... Bang bang, my infertility shot me down.