waiting for miscarriage weirdness

So I am still waiting to miscarry and I'm all, HELLOOOOO, I do not have the time for this nonsense I am a very busy working mother who is already overextended with commitments.  And there's a storm snow which is going to stress me out more because I need some files on my office's hard drive that I can't access.....But the other day, while in transit from a conference that I had to attend whilst carrying my latest baby to mourn, I took a little mental detour from the mind clutter, and started googling where some of my friends from college who I lost track of ended up.

So I start taking a look-see at some old friends, and then that expanded the search into their roommates and acquaintances.  And typed in the name of a dude I remembered who lived with my friends who I always thought was kinda hot.  Like, "I go to the gym because I row on the crew team and I don't actually have much to say without flexing my arms" hot.  Totally not my type - even during my shallow youth - and I can recall having many conversations with this dude always thinking, you know, you're kind of a douchebag but your arms are nice.  Actually, I will always recall him as one of the only hot guys I met in college who I should have hooked up with but never did, just to be able to tell the tale of his abs.

(I know..... you all think I'm deep and profound and thoughtful, and clearly I can fake a good game).


So imagine my surprise when I type in his name, and whoa, what?  He's a Reproductive Endocrinologist?  That can't be right.  No, there's his picture (heh, still cute), there's his bio showing my alma mater, and yes, I can read properly, he's an RE whose specialties include fertility preservation for cancer patients and rare genetic syndromes.  And on his vitals patient review page there are like 20 reviews commenting on his kindness and tact abilities as a doctor by patients who suffered infertility.

And I am like, REALLY?  No, seriously, this is fascinating, because I vaguely recall his aspirations to attend medical school, and he studied a lot, but surely he was going into sports medicine.  Orthopedic surgeon, that I could see.  This guy, who I kid you not, once flexed his biceps while scolding me in the study area of our dorm because my laugh generally annoyed him (full disclosure, my laugh is indeed awful, but he might have thought I was just a little cute), was now sitting in a room with women at their most vulnerable, women who shed tears and expressed fears and pain both physical and emotional?  Working to help them achieve motherhood?

Weirdness, yo.