The other medical procedures of Marathon day were more mundane than the production of The Specimen. After our consultation with the nurse and the IVF doctor, the nurse took B. to an examination room and another nurse led me off to the cheerful lab technician. Alberto was left in the conference room by himself.

After the specimen, I returned to the conference room for a brief moment, where Alberto declined to hear the story I posted yesterday.

Next, I filled out a questionnaire about my hematological history. If you’ve ever donated blood, you’ve filled out this same questionnaire – have you traveled to Africa (yes), do you have a tattoo (yes), have you had sex with another man since 1977 (duh), used intravenous drugs (no), had sex for money (no), had sex with someone from Africa (no, but this seems like an oddly racist risk factor).

I took the questionnaire to the phlebotomist and sat down in her chair. I noticed she was reading a Twilight book. “You’re a phlebotomist and you’re reading a book about vampires? Does that make people nervous?”

“Does it make you nervous?”

Um, it didn’t until you gave a creepy response to my playful question. She managed to draw six vials of my blood without its scent whipping her into a frenzy, though, so I’ll assume she doesn’t sparkle in the sun.

Again, I returned to Alberto’s room of isolation. The first nurse that we met with in the morning returned with a stack of paperwork. Apparently the regulations governing IVF are similar to the regulations that govern the purchase of real estate, because the only other time that I have signed that many documents was when we bought our house. The nurse gave a brief explanation of each form, because if we had read every word we would have been there all week.

After we had both signed all of the paperwork, my final nurse of the day took my blood pressure, listened to my heart and lungs and pronounced me healthy. Meanwhile, B. was having similar tests and procedures, as well as having a sonogram of her uterus and receiving instructions on how to take the drugs that she will need to take to prepare her body for surrogacy.

Finally we were all returned to the conference room where Alberto had been reading his book for three hours. The nurse told us that B. had a lovely uterus and it was her turn to blush. These are the sorts of intimate details that you don’t normally discuss with people you barely know, but I’m getting more used to it.

At the end of Marathon Day, as we were driving back home, we were excited about the next steps. We knew that the Egg Donor would have her medical testing the next day. If that was also successful, all the pieces would be in place to schedule the transfer.