The final shot

These are from Marina Rinaldi. Love the fact that my favorite clothing brand came up with the idea to make boots that matched their clothes. Size wise. They are not particularly elegant, but work really well on days when I want to wear a dress to work, but without suffering in heels. Bought them in Barcelona on my way home from a cruise, summer 2005.

Today I was going to write about the first snowfall. Which happened during the night. A happy-happy-story about how all the local polar bears came out roaming the streets celebrating the first day of winter. But then something came up, and my day did not quite turn out as planned.

Time for my third visit to the fertility clinic - this week. And - did they have news for me! All the pharmacies in Norway AND Sweden (!) are now completely out of this stuff that I use for my daily 10-PM-shot. AND the replacement brand that they normally carry is gone too. Short. Empty. Sold out. Finito. Schluss.

Meaning that all the needlework I have meticulously carried out over the last week or so, would be for nothing. Without THAT VERY LAST SHOT of this particular liquid I would have to call the whole thing off. And do the whole thing again in January. Next year. Tik. Tok. Tik-tok. That would be my biological clock ticking. Even faster.

It may not come as a huge surprise that these news did not go down really well with yours truly. After injecting hormones for a week I am close enough to the edge as is. There were tears. And some words I will not repeat, in case people under 18 are reading this. Of course, it is NOBODY´s fault. Right. If I had met Mr. Nobody right then, he would have been in trouble. BIG trouble. You simply do NOT f*** around with a woman in my current state.

Anyway, coming to my senses, I tell the doctor that I am ready to fly ANYWHERE within Europe - immediately - to get hold of this one injection in time, so that I can continue my treatment. Being this close to my goal, I am not giving up due to stupid logistical challenges!

This doctor has worked with hormonally disturbed women in more than thirty years, so I guess he has seen and heard quite a bit. But - he actually took me seriously. Good for him. I am an extremely stubborn girl. Sometimes a bit too much, as I never seem to take "no" for an answer. Which FOR ONCE turned out to be a good thing.

I stopped by the pharmacy, still in tears, to try to get some contact information for some well-stocked pharmacies in Denmark. They started making some calls. Only to find out that YES (!), there was actually a clinic in Oslo (!) that had ONE single shot left of my medication. Wheew! I did not know that the distance between heaven and hell was that short. Scared the living daylights out of the cleaning lady when suddenly bursting into apartment to pick up my prescriptions.

So. Exiting times. Maybe a bit too exciting for my taste, but hopefully this will all be worth it in the end.

Just for the record, if we are lucky enough to really have a child after this whole ordeal, there will have to be consequences. First of all, poor thing, you are now officially grounded. Until well into your teenage years. Secondly, all your weekly allowances for the first six or seven years are withdrawn. It has all been spent on these insanely expensive medications, so forget about buying your own Lego for a while. This is all for putting your possible future mum through so much trouble.