Counting chickens

Tomorrow morning I go in for my suppression check.  In addition to checking my lining and antral follicle count at this appointment, they will also check to see if my ovarian cyst has grown. In mid May it was 3.8cm, and the one that I had to have removed at the end of January was 6.6cm.  If the cyst has grown significantly, my RE won't let me start my stims (to help my follicles grow) and I'll face surgery and losing my ovary.  Gulp.  If the cyst has remained the same size or even (miracle) gotten smaller I get the green light to start shooting up two more drugs starting this Friday.  Fingers crossed!  

So tonight, on the eve of this make or break dr.'s appointment, what am I pondering? You are going to laugh.  You *should* laugh.  In fact, I am laughing right now. Cracking up, can't stifle the giggles, tears coming out of the corners of my eyes.  

You get the picture.  

Of all things I could or should be thinking about, I choose the most frivolous.  Because I am ME.

I am picking out freaking baby names.  Talk about counting your chickens, people.  I am there.  Thinking up all the different scenarios and counting my little chickens. Jinxing myself?  I don't believe in that.  But ridiculous?  YES.  I know. And you know what I say to that?  

OH FREAKING WELL.  

If I have to give myself four shots in the belly and one in the arse just to get knocked up (and even then, no guarantees) I deserve to daydream a bit, right? 

Curious about what made my list?  Ok, I'm open.  I'll share.  But don't go stealing my names now people!!!  

In no particular order, though those of you that know me, know the front runners:

Caroline

Charlotte

Harper

Grant

Blake

Anderson

Davis

Wish me luck tomorrow!