Last night was rough. After dinner, Ed and I sat down to go over the paperwork for the IVF process. All kinds of initials were needed from both of us - all kinds of agreements had to be made between us - things you'd never imagine you'd have to think of were thought of. I needed to complete the paperwork to hand in this morning at my appointment. After we were done, Ed went to the basement to get some work done...and I went upstairs to go to bed. But sleep didn't come. All I could do was cry.
I would say, in general, I'm pretty tough. I would say, for the most part, I hold it together much of the time. I would say that I'm not a big crier.
But when I do cry - it's BIG.
I cried because I just can't believe we're *here*.
I cried because I had a dream of being a Mom my whole life and having a family that included more than two...and I'm fearing that my dream won't ever come true.
I cried because I feel like a failure.
Failure to maintain pregnancies.
Failure to become pregnant.
I cried over Darcy and all the other babies - the lost lives. The wasted chances.
I cried because I feel so out of control now. Like it's up to science as opposed to me.
I cried because - after a while I just started making up reasons. It just felt so good to cry. Until the morning when I could barely recognize myself. My eyes were nearly swollen shut.
I left the house early (with the biggest sunglasses I owned) to head to the fertility clinic - paperwork in hand. Filled out completely...except for the section that asked "how many pregnancies...what was the outcome." I hadn't had the courage to write that out yet.
I cried all the way to the office.
When I got there, I sat in the waiting room and pulled out that sheet. I figured writing it out in a public waiting room filled with people would help me hold it together. I was wrong. I started to worry - why was I getting THIS emotional??
I was called back and met with a very nice nurse. She asked me some basic questions before she got to the heavy hitters - like "how many pregnancies...?" I started to list them out and watched her face fall. When I got to Darcy she thought she heard me wrong...so I had to say it again and watch her face turn away. She didn't know what to say. Neither did I. So I cried.
She started explaining to me how it would all work - the birth control pills would be started today and taken for 21 days. They would supress my body so they could eventually take over and make my body and my ovaries and my everything do what they wanted it to do. She told me I needed to schedule a procedure called a "Hysteroscopy" within ten days of today. She explained the box of meds and syringes and vials and tubes that would be delivered to my house - how to mix everything and store everything and inject everything. After a while, quite honestly, I stopped listening and watched her lips move in what seemed like slow motion. I was overwhelmed...and started to cry. "Move on," I said as I waved my hand for her to continue. "I'll be okay..." So she did...
She went on to explain the schedule - I'd need to come back in on this date for an ultrasound...this date for bloodwork and ultrasound...and then this date for the egg retrieval which is done under anesthesia. She saw me turn white. The date conflicts with a very important event that I just can't miss.
I made my way back into the reception area to check out and to make my next appointment. I had to figure out when in the world between now and Tuesday - when we leave for the Bahamas - I could schedule that procedure. I would need someone to take me to and from so I had to coordinate that with Ed's work schedule, too. My nerves at that point were shot. They were able to make it for Monday afternoon at 2 - whew.
I cried all the way home.
Ed called from work to see how it went. I cried into the phone. I told him how overwhelmed I felt. How I couldn't believe the schedule and the conflicts and what am I going to do?!?!? He, as usual, was so supportive and sympathetic. He suggested that maybe we just wait a month. I wanted to hang up on him. WAIT A MONTH? Wait is a four letter word to me. One month to me would feel like one year. Does he not remember how OLD I am? We ended the conversation with me still upset and...you guessed it...crying.
I left to go pick up the birth control pills at the pharmacy. In the car...by myself...I realized it. All the tears - the enormous anxiety - the conflicts - the intense emotion. Perhaps it was my intuition. Maybe Ed was right. Right then I made my decision. We're holding off.
We are holding off.
I called the doctor just to be sure I was doing the right thing. If he told me I had, like, a 1% chance of getting pregnant this month on our own - with no intervention - I might have reconsidered. But he didn't. Of course my chances are much lower - but it's not impossible. As a matter of fact - he thought the vacation and giving my body a rest for the month - might be good for me. It was a relief. But not entirely.
I am stressed about being "on our own" this month. If it doesn't work, will I blame myself for making this decision? If it doesn't work, it will be a whole month wasted! The "ifs" really are driving me crazy. But I'm also exhausted from a night of no sleep and lots of crying. This has been an extremely emotional journey.
But, thanks to Ed, I feel like we're on the right path. At least for this month. Perhaps just focusing on each other when we go to the Bahamas and then on the boys when we're home...perhaps that is just where we need to be.
And if it does turn out that I don't get my dream fulfilled for more children...it won't be too hard to recover when I realize that my happily ever afters are right here in front of me every day...