The last weeks have been a whirlwind. In a nutshell – we celebrated R’s 35th birthday with a trip to Mt. Rainier with her sister and our brother-in-law. We hiked for miles in the chilly stillness, surrounded by autumnal colors and ever changing views of the volcano. We cooked, soaked in the hot tub, and watched The Shining. It was a truly perfect weekend.
After a few more events, which included a baby shower, a wedding, a birthday party for my niece, all the celebrations were finished and we were subsumed by the fervor and divisiveness of American politics. Weeks of obsessively reading the papers and the 538 blog culminated in an election night party, which started as a nail biter and ended with joy and a little bit of apprehension.
In the midst of the election and our (limited, and late) campaigning for marriage equality, R and I made the usual repeated visits to the fertility clinic for monitoring. She had a “robust” response to her medications this cycle which prompted a phone call from Dr. T on election eve. Our conversation is best described as a kind of popcorn talk with kernels of surprise, optimism, caution, indecision, and wavering conviction. After agonizing up to the very last hour, R and I decided to proceed with the cycle in spite of the risk of multiples. To assuage our anxiety we joked about the possibility of getting a “twofer” and then at 7 am on the morning after our raucous election party, we rolled into the fertility clinic with a cautious optimism.
Tomorrow is testing day, and we’re waiting with bated breath.