Waiting for calls, waiting for faxes, waiting for forms, emails and taxis. Waiting for results, waiting for news, waiting for info, answers and clues. Waiting for admin, an important letter. Waiting for consultants to tell us the matter. Waiting for side-effects that'll make me feel sick. Waiting for doctors to get it over with quick. Waiting for sleep, waiting for drugs, waiting for an abundance of healing and hugs. Waiting for success, waiting for failure, waiting for respite from financial mania. Waiting for blood, waiting for money, waiting for injections twice daily in my tummy. Waiting for eggs, waiting for sperm, waiting for embryos to see if they'll form. Waiting for peace, waiting for home, waiting for grief to leave us alone. Waiting in corridors, waiting in clinics, waiting in hospitals, in cars and in panics. Waiting in surgeries, waiting in queues, waiting in beds, chairs and various loos. Waiting in vain, waiting in hope, waiting to see if my marriage can cope. Waiting through months, waiting through years, waiting through laughter, blood, sweat and tears. Waiting through shame, waiting through fear, waiting to see if that day is finally here. Well, waiting's a joke. It’s overrated. It really quite cruel and I’ve grown to hate it. But it's the name of the game for the infertile few. So much time is spent waiting, but what else can we do?