It's early. I couldn't sleep.
I feel like I am in the weirdest place. Like I just don't know what to do. Gary and I have focused so much time and energy the past 3 months into this and I feel like it is over in the blink of an eye. We waited for yesterday for so long and in a 45 second voicemail it was over. I think I am in shock. I am not sure if it has really hit me that again, I have no idea when we will have our baby. I think that is the hardest part. At least with
IVF we had a form of a timeline (which I have learned I apparently have no control over). Everyone says "just relax, it will happen" and that is all fine and good, but when you have so much hope and you feel like what you need is so close and then it is gone-- I cant explain it. I feel like I have no more tears. Even yesterday- I cried, but not nearly as hard as I did over Sunday and Monday. Since Sunday, I have been praying for strength to get through this. I guess this is it-- this is my strength. Is not crying a sign of strength? I guess. I also want to be sure I am not kidding myself. Like I am pretending to be strong b/c I think it will just be easier. I think only time will tell about that.
I need to call and actually talk to the Dr. today. I felt I was too emotional yesterday to call him back, ask him the questions I needed to and be in the frame of mind to listen to his answers. The Dr. said that if we tried again, we would probably have about a 35% success rate (I need to know how that was determined). As of right now, I do not think Gary and I will do another round of
IVF-- at least not anytime soon. Without revealing actual $ amounts-- we have invested
ALOT of money into this and we are just not in a place to do this again. I see no point in continually
depleting our savings to have a baby that we then cant provide for. Yes, a baby would be worth all the money in the world, but Gary and I need to do what we are comfortable with.
Not really sure if I will post anymore. I mean I really started this blog to document our journey with infertility to parenthood. We've got the first part down, but the second, who knows when that will be ours. I want to
repost an excerpt from one of my very first posts. I
don't want anyone to feel sorry for us- be happy for us. Because of this journey, Gary and
my's relationship has just become stronger than I could ever imagine.
What do I think God meant when he gave me infertility?
"I think he meant for my husband and I to grow closer, become stronger, love deeper. I think God meant for us to find the fortitude within ourselves to get up every time infertility knocks us down. I think God meant for our medical community to discover medicines, invent medical equipment, create procedures and protocols. I think God meant for us to find a cure for infertility.
"No, God never meant for me not to have children. That's not my destiny; that's just a fork in the road I'm on. I've been placed on the road less traveled, and, like it or not, I'm a better person for it. Clearly, God meant for me to develop more compassion, deeper courage, and greater inner strength on this journey to resolution, and I haven't let him down.
"Frankly, if the truth be known, I think God has singled me out for a special treatment. I think God meant for me to build a thirst for a child so strong and so deep that when that baby is finally placed in my arms, it will be the longest, coolest, most refreshing drink I've ever known.
"While I would never choose infertility, I cannot deny that a fertile woman could never know the joy that awaits me. Yes, one way or another, I will have a baby of my own. And the next time someone wants to offer me unsolicited advice I'll say, "Don't tell me what God meant when he handed me infertility. I already know."