This post is fairly transparent. You’ve been warned.
On the really hard days, I drink margaritas and eat lots of chorizo cheese dip. And, I typically feel a huge amount of eater’s remorse the next day. Today was a hard day.
I’ve entered my OB/Gyn’s office so many times that I have the floors memorized without even really taking the numbers in. Parking deck elevator to level E, walk across the lobby to the 2nd set of elevators to level 5, then left and down the hall to the right. But today was different. Today was the day that I wouldn’t be going down the hall to the right. I’d be going straight across to the left and into a tiny dimly lit waiting room, where I’d be the only patient.
I signed in and sat down, surveying my surroundings and mentally photographing the room. There were two large corkboards with birth announcements and photos of babies, listing the dates, the weights and the measurements. I examined them the way I do headstones at cemeteries, finding the oldest and the youngest.
I began to fidget. I left my comfort zone twenty minutes ago and was now on someone else’s turf. A nurse came flying into the room and apologized for leaving us in the dark. She called me to follow her to an even tinier room with a chair and a little desk that flipped up from the right arm rest, the way it would in a 1950’s schoolhouse. 3 vials of blood later, I left the hospital wondering if any of this would answer our questions.
I’m in a weird place. I’m an overachiever and a control freak who can’t seem to get pregnant on her own. My eggs are nowhere near the heroines that my mind and heart are.
There’s a part of me that wonders if I’m being punished for the years that I swore I didn’t want children. I was telling the truth. And, I was still on the fence 3 years ago when we decided to go off birth control and let nature take its course. If it happened, great. If it didn’t, I’d survive.
It wasn’t until last year that things changed. And every month is filled with this marathon of emotions from start to finish – You begin energized and convinced that you can do it! And, you time things perfectly and you obsess, measure, and pray. And you wait, convincing yourself that this is it. This is that moment when you get to experience what your heart now begs for.
And, painfully, you find out that your attempts were not successful. You grieve the loss of another month, unsure of whether you can put your emotions through the roller-coaster again.
But you do. And the cycle eats you alive, as you cling to the one thing you refuse to let go of: hope.
You know you’re not the only one. But, you feel like you are.
You don’t want to share too much with people because then they ask you for updates. And, suddenly you aren’t only letting yourself down, but also all those people who want the latest.
So, that’s where I am. That’s me. That’s here. That’s now. That’s where WE are… Struggling to make sense of a desire that I didn’t have until a year ago. I’m grateful for the desire, but I don’t understand why I’d have it if it wasn’t meant for me. If it’s not my cup, let it pass. And if it is mine, give me strength to hang on to it until it’s no longer empty.
I’d love prayers. As many as you can throw my way. This is scary and weird and emotionally draining. Pray that those feelings are replaced with their opposites.