We did it!!! Today, we paid off our IVF debt.
We're finally free of the looming credit card balance staring us in the face, taunting us with "ha ha... you still owe me money... and you don't have anything to show for it..."
We're free. Relief. Peace.
But somehow I thought I would feel happier. I thought I would feel a release.
Now, all I feel is a strange sense of finality. Is this it? Are we done? Are our chances gone? Is there hope?
I was in a meeting yesterday at work and and there was a woman in the meeting who is pregnant. She is probably a good 10 years younger than me. She's looks to be about 5 months along, showing, cutely.. but not hugely.. And I didn't feel that pang of sadness. I felt a strange sense of detachment. Like oh, hmmm... I wonder what that's like... a numbness.
I'm sad that I felt that way. I thought I should still feel a sense of longing whenever I see a pregnant woman, a sense of desire and a sense of hope... But right now I feel nothing....
and that scares the crap out of me.
19 February 2010
17 February 2010
Dear Baby
As I mentioned in the beginning of this blog, B recommended, as did a few others, that I start writing in a journal. I actually bought a really pretty bound journal from Target and tried to write in it.
But for some reason, writing just didn't flow. I think that's why I didn't really take to journaling right away. Instead, as I sat at the laptop and typed out my thoughts, I found the words came out a lot easier.
I thought tonight that I'd share one of my handwritten entries from my first attempt at keeping a journal. This entry is from about a year ago before right before we were to start our first IVF cycle. Oh, the hope that was in all of our hearts back then. I still have that hope, but its a very different kind of hope right now. Its more patient, less desperate... even deeper somehow... Anyways.. here's the entry:
15 March, 2009
Dear Baby,
I had dinner tonight with your grandparents and we talked about you. They are so excited and hopeful that you are on your way soon. I can't wait to make them grandparents. They are the most caring, giving and loving parents and will be such a HUGE part of your life. We'll often go visit them and Grandma will hold you and cuddle you and sing you songs and give me a break when I need a break. Grandpa will laugh and play with you and when you are older, encourage you and teach you lessons. I can even picture you taking a nap together as he holds you on his chest in his favorite chair. And after a fun weekend visit to the grandparents, B and I will pack us all back into the car and drive back home and the whole way you will be telling us over and over how much fun you had visiting them.
Our family is ready and waiting for you and here to welcome you into our open and loving arms...
But for some reason, writing just didn't flow. I think that's why I didn't really take to journaling right away. Instead, as I sat at the laptop and typed out my thoughts, I found the words came out a lot easier.
I thought tonight that I'd share one of my handwritten entries from my first attempt at keeping a journal. This entry is from about a year ago before right before we were to start our first IVF cycle. Oh, the hope that was in all of our hearts back then. I still have that hope, but its a very different kind of hope right now. Its more patient, less desperate... even deeper somehow... Anyways.. here's the entry:
15 March, 2009
Dear Baby,
I had dinner tonight with your grandparents and we talked about you. They are so excited and hopeful that you are on your way soon. I can't wait to make them grandparents. They are the most caring, giving and loving parents and will be such a HUGE part of your life. We'll often go visit them and Grandma will hold you and cuddle you and sing you songs and give me a break when I need a break. Grandpa will laugh and play with you and when you are older, encourage you and teach you lessons. I can even picture you taking a nap together as he holds you on his chest in his favorite chair. And after a fun weekend visit to the grandparents, B and I will pack us all back into the car and drive back home and the whole way you will be telling us over and over how much fun you had visiting them.
Our family is ready and waiting for you and here to welcome you into our open and loving arms...
Almost Perfect
Last weekend my family and I celebrated my dad's 65th birthday. It was ALMOST a perfect night. We had drinks and appetizers at my sister's apartment. We gave him gifts. We played a dvd that I had put together of the last 35 yrs or so of his life set to some tear jerking songs. And then we went to a nice long dinner at a cozy steak place. And finished the night up at an irish pub.
It was an almost perfect night...
It was almost perfect because I had thought, just about 6 weeks ago that MAYBE we MIGHT have been pregnant on our own. It was the month before my laparoscopy and I missed my period by 2 days!!! 2 WHOLE DAYS!! And those of you who have done this infertility crap for a while know that for those 2 whole days, I really really thought it might have been possible....even after 3 years of no no no no no.... I still thought it was possible.
And in a split second, I had planned it all. I had planned when I was going to tell everyone and when were due and how wonderful it was going to be to give my dad the best birthday gift I could think of.... telling him he was going to be a Grandpa. I was going to save it for that night at dinner... and tell everyone together... and we'd all cry.. and laugh.... and this nightmare would finally be over...
... as I said... ALMOST perfect night.
It was an almost perfect night...
It was almost perfect because I had thought, just about 6 weeks ago that MAYBE we MIGHT have been pregnant on our own. It was the month before my laparoscopy and I missed my period by 2 days!!! 2 WHOLE DAYS!! And those of you who have done this infertility crap for a while know that for those 2 whole days, I really really thought it might have been possible....even after 3 years of no no no no no.... I still thought it was possible.
And in a split second, I had planned it all. I had planned when I was going to tell everyone and when were due and how wonderful it was going to be to give my dad the best birthday gift I could think of.... telling him he was going to be a Grandpa. I was going to save it for that night at dinner... and tell everyone together... and we'd all cry.. and laugh.... and this nightmare would finally be over...
... as I said... ALMOST perfect night.
04 February 2010
The Other Side of the Wall
I don't have a wall in front of me right now and I kind of wish I did.
Let me explain.
After 'cycling' for almost 2 years (cycling is the affectionate term for actively trying to get pregnant, especially with the help of a reproductive endocrinologist), I often felt like with each cycle, at the beginning with all of the hope and excitement surrounding how many follicles I had, how great my hormone levels are, how many awesome swimmer B has, I would see in my future path, a big wall. I can't see through the wall, but I hope as hard as hell that on the other side of the wall is my baby.
I knocked down my last wall this past September and once again, there was nothing was there.
But since then, I had another plan, and a tiny wall was erected. I knew there was no baby on the other side, mostly, but it was still a nice wall, blocking the view of my future. Most importantly, blocking an empty view of my future w/o any biological children. This most recent wall was the laparoscopy. I knew it wasn't going to produce me a baby, but at least it was an upcoming event that I could focus my energies on and hope for an answer to this madness.
Its somewhat blissful in fact, with a wall in front of you... Its hopeful. Even after many many months of walls that are broken down w/ no baby behind them, you still think... maybe..... could be... yeah, maybe its this one... And so before you break down that wall, you are at peace.
But right now, I don't have any walls in front of me. Right now, because we don't have any looming cycles (IUIs, IVFs.... what have you) in front of us (I just CAN'T get the energy or money up to do it... too many resources to muster w/ too much at stake), I'm anxious... I'm sad... I'm fearful...I'm heavy. What if I don't have any more walls in front of me ever again? What if we just decide to stop? What if a baby doesn't magically appear in front of me?
Its hard to be on the other side of a wall without knowing when/if another will come along and help you stay peaceful and present. I guess I'm supposed to figure out how to do that myself. Ugh...
Let me explain.
After 'cycling' for almost 2 years (cycling is the affectionate term for actively trying to get pregnant, especially with the help of a reproductive endocrinologist), I often felt like with each cycle, at the beginning with all of the hope and excitement surrounding how many follicles I had, how great my hormone levels are, how many awesome swimmer B has, I would see in my future path, a big wall. I can't see through the wall, but I hope as hard as hell that on the other side of the wall is my baby.
I knocked down my last wall this past September and once again, there was nothing was there.
But since then, I had another plan, and a tiny wall was erected. I knew there was no baby on the other side, mostly, but it was still a nice wall, blocking the view of my future. Most importantly, blocking an empty view of my future w/o any biological children. This most recent wall was the laparoscopy. I knew it wasn't going to produce me a baby, but at least it was an upcoming event that I could focus my energies on and hope for an answer to this madness.
Its somewhat blissful in fact, with a wall in front of you... Its hopeful. Even after many many months of walls that are broken down w/ no baby behind them, you still think... maybe..... could be... yeah, maybe its this one... And so before you break down that wall, you are at peace.
But right now, I don't have any walls in front of me. Right now, because we don't have any looming cycles (IUIs, IVFs.... what have you) in front of us (I just CAN'T get the energy or money up to do it... too many resources to muster w/ too much at stake), I'm anxious... I'm sad... I'm fearful...I'm heavy. What if I don't have any more walls in front of me ever again? What if we just decide to stop? What if a baby doesn't magically appear in front of me?
Its hard to be on the other side of a wall without knowing when/if another will come along and help you stay peaceful and present. I guess I'm supposed to figure out how to do that myself. Ugh...
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