Yesterday’s egg retrieval went just fine and afterwards we learned that The Russian had gotten 7 eggs. Not gonna lie, kinda had my hopes up that we’d indeed get 8-10 as she’d predicted earlier. But hey, 7 is still 7. I was okay with the anesthesia and in fact, I think the 20 or so minutes I was on oxygen really helped my congestion. I spent the rest of the day on the couch watching Veronica Mars and consuming such comfort foods as butterscotch pudding, hubbo’s chocolate chip cookies, tomato soup and copious amounts of tea and juice.
Got the call today that 3 of the 7 had fertilized – too early to say why the other 4 weren’t on the fert train – and still too soon to know when we’ll do the transfer. I’ll hear tomorrow afternoon as to if we’ll do a Tuesday, Wednesday or Thursday transfer, though the nurse I talked to said, “if I were a betting person, I’d say it’s going to happen Tuesday, but we’ll know more tomorrow.” I mean, I also know that we’re far from out of the woods – we have to wait to see if the three make it to transfer, and if the quality is enough to transfer at all.
It’s a mind storm. A mind storm.
So I got myself a little worked up, was a bit overwhelmed, felt the odds were stacked against us….the whole nine yards, and then my husband came home from taking the dog to the beach to announced that they’d invented a new game: Ultimate Patience. It was a sarcastic game they’d invented in trying to find a non-existed parking space – patience in the face of a situation you can’t really change.
And we all know, Ultimate Patience is what this whole deal is all about.
I still released a few tears, but hey that’s cool, and I felt better afterwards.
Which brings me back to 3. Because 3 is what we have and I can’t change that. Until I hear tomorrow’s update, I have to figure that 3 is where it’s at, because after all, there’s the rule of threes.
It’s a G. D. Rule.
The rule of Three is a writing principle that suggests that things that come in threes are inherently funnier, more satisfying, or more effective than other numbers of things. The reader or audience of this form of text is also more likely to consume information if it is written in groups of threes. From slogans (“Go, fight, win!”) to films, many things are structured in threes. Examples include The Three Stooges, Three Little Pigs, Three Billy Goats Gruff, Goldilocks and the Three Bears.
A series of three often creates a progression in which the tension is created, built up, and finally released. Similarly, adjectives are often grouped in threes to emphasize an idea.
The Latin phrase, “omne trium perfectum” (everything that comes in threes is perfect, or, every set of three is complete) conveys the same idea as the rule of three.
In comedy, it is also called a comic triple. Two is the smallest number of points needed to establish a pattern, and comedians exploit the way people’s minds perceive expected patterns to throw the audience off track (and make them laugh) with the third element.
I know this last one especially well because I work in comedy and we’re constantly leaning on the Rule of 3s to create a build, get a laugh, and give the audience that specific gratification. They may not always see a 1-2-3 punch coming, but they certainly appreciate it.
And therefore, in this game of Ultimate Patience, I hang on to The Number 3:
because it’s a Rule
because I don’t have a choice
And, because according to Schoolhouse Rock, 3 is indeed, a magic number.