So! Whatever I did over the weekend worked. The follicles are growing like crazymad. They just took their own sweet time.
The nurse asked if I wanted the numbers, and I said no. I suspect I'm the only fertility patient in the history of forever that didn't ask for her numbers; I can tell from reading various forums that those numbers are currency. But I don't remember numbers. All I know is I went from two small, silly little follicles to a whole mess o'them. They are "in play," according to the nurse.
I had various people offering theories about what would get my apparently lazy follicles to take some action. (Note: I'm lazy. My follicles are lazy, too. Hee!) One friend suggested getting Hugh Jack.man and George Clo.oney in a room for me, which I thought was a terrific idea. Another friend said listening to the dulcet tones of Josh Gro.ban would work. (Sue me. I like melodic tenors, even if they're overproduced.)
My favorite was the friend on Friday night who said that I should drink a lot, thus perhaps reminding my ovaries of my wild and crazy youth-- when you spend all your time trying to avoid getting pregnant, not encouraging it.
Whatever it was-- liquor, laughing with friends, eating Indian food-- don't know. Don't care. It worked.
Updates as I have them!