While laying on my back, my legs up in delivery stirrups, speculum already inserted and waiting for the embryologists to bring in my two progressing blasts, I announced to my RE that in honor of St Patrick’s day, we were dubbing our little embryos out “Lucky Charms.” As ridiculous as it sounds, I like to name our embryos so that I can refer to them with a loving pet name while I’m talking to them. They laughed with us. Then, my RE said, “Isn’t today Mardi Gras?” Yep…it was Mardi Gras and I hadn’t realized that. My RE suggested the Brazilian Bose Novas. I asked him if I was going to be getting any beads from the office. The Brain reminded me that I hadn’t lifted my shirt for any beads. I turned to her and reminded her that while I hadn’t lifted my shirt to show off my breasts, I’d dropped my pants and showed a lot more. Now remember, I’m up in stirrups and have a speculum locked and ready to go…while laughing with most of the office staff and a rotating physician. It’s a moment only someone going through IF can truly appreciate. The embryologist entered the room, complimented the soundtrack, and then was reintroduced as the glorified babysitter. I complimented her on her babysitting skills. My two little blasts were inserted and we watched as they flickered on the screen, like bright little stars. There were hugs and sticky embryo wishes from the RE and we were left for the half hour of rest and a few bedpan breaks. I wonder what they call babies made on Mardi Gras, king's babies?