Here I go, Here I go, Here I go again!

Yesterday when R left for work she sang a little Salt-n-Pepa ditty. You know the one.

Here I go

Here I go

Here I go, again…

Dutifully, I replied

What’s my weakness?!

My enthusiastic reply was met with silence.

I shouted,

‘Hey, I said, What’s my weakness!’

More silence. The sound of R’s bike slamming against the garage door. She shouted back

Uh, I don’t have any weaknesses!

Oh…except fertility!!!

Love you, bye!

And if infertility can work its way into our white ladies’ early morning rendition of Shoop, I think it’s fair to say it’s penetrated every layer of our lives. Sigh.

So, after many discussions with friends, family, the Midwest adoption agency, and our friendly social worker, we’ve decided the stress of trying to adopt as a single female is just too much for one of us to endure mostly alone. We don’t want to disentangle our bank accounts, stage our home, prepare evasive answers to questions about dating and marriage prospects, or pose as roommates. We are uncertain about what would happen if we were still trying to finalize an adoption in 12 months when our domestic partnership automatically converts to a state-recognized marriage–something we fought for, but now realize would prevent us from adopting internationally.

In the next few days we’ll begin the protocol for our first IVF cycle. We were lucky to qualify for a shared risk plan, which allows us up to three fresh and three frozen cycles of IVF for roughly the cost of two fresh cycles. If we decided to cease and desist, or if all the treatment fails, we will get 70% of our initial payment back.

I won’t lie to you (why start now?!). It was hard for me to settle into the idea of IVF. I’m exhausted already, and the idea of R taking eight medications over six weeks is terrifying. We’re nervous about it not working. We’re nervous about it working. I guess we are just nervous. Our financial and emotional reserves are spent, and I know we’ll struggle to keep our heads above water during the coming weeks of injections and blood draws and doctor visits and pills and powders. Thankfully we have wonderful friends and family to keep us afloat.

We wrote to KD and let him know about our plan, and he was genuinely excited for us. It was sweet, and affirming.

So…here I go, here I go, here I go again.

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5 responses to “Here I go, Here I go, Here I go again!

  1. Yay for having a plan! And for having found the route that feels right for you. I can definitely see your concerns about the difficulties of pretending to be just roommates. And I’m glad to hear you were able to do shared risk. It seems like there’s already so much stress involved in undergoing IVF (with the meds, appointments, etc.), that adding in the pressure of knowing that this would be your one-and-only shot at this seems incredibly difficult. Hang in there!

  2. Fingers, toes, legs, arms, all major crossable appendages crossed for you both! And a big thank you for getting Shoop stuck in my head for the night. Hopefully just the night……

    • ha! I’m always good for an ear worm! For some unknown reason, I’ve been walking around singing a song from
      my childhood Sunday School days. It’s something like “the B I B L E, that’s the book for me, it’s the Word of God…(forgotten lyrics here)…the B I B L E.” I think I’d prefer Shoop. 🙂

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