The last week has brought challenges and new ways to cope with them. We are traveling to the east coast for a friend’s wedding, and have to sit out this cycle because we’ll be away during the time that our doctor would want to see R for serial ultrasounds. Pressing pause is both a blessing and a curse. It’s nice to be free of doctor visits, medication side effects, and the expense of trying to conceive, but waiting six weeks means motherhood is even further away than we’d like. Well meaning friends have said “what’s a few more months at this point?” And it’s a fair question, I suppose, but I’m not a neutral observer and to me six weeks feels like an eternity spent suspended in the ectoplasm of infertility.
I think what makes the waiting especially hard is that with each failed cycle we are left to wonder whether we are making the wrong moves. I’m not really a person who believes in a predestined order to the universe, so the whole “meant to be” M.O. doesn’t really jive with my perspective, and still, my typically rational brain is left to wonder whether the universe is calling and I’m failing to answer. This nagging sense that we’re forcing The Bean to come to us by our chosen path (anonymous donor, R as birth mother) combined with the ridiculous expense of this endeavor has prompted some serious reevaluation of that path. I’m not sure where the reevaluation will take us, but it feels good to take the time to wander a bit, even if we wind up at the same starting point.
This whole process has been exhausting, and just when we felt depleted each of us had a serendipitous conversation with a friends going through similar struggles and it was really validating to hear that others are sharing our experience. Does misery love company or what? Ha! In all seriousness, it helps to know that we aren’t the only ones having auditory hallucinations that involve the universe calling collect and talking about what’s meant to be.
To top it all off, my friend S sent me this lovely post that I shall store in my electronic back pocket, so I can remember that when The Bean(s) make me batty, it’s not the universe calling again–it’s normal.