Shadows and Sunlights

B and I got out of the house last night for a fabulous dinner party.  It was my brother and sister-in-law and two other friends that we met through them.  The two friends cooked a beyond delicious meal and we ate and laughed and played ridiculous games that embarrassed every last one of us in a perfect way. We really needed that. Plus, I had a few glasses of wine!!! Not to say that this was at all allowed or even the best idea, but it's done and there's nothing they can do about it.  Funny how I seem to think my poor health will only hurt "them"... but it makes me feel better dammit.

No actually, I got a call from Dr. Z that my last liver enzyme test came back better. Only two or three times the normal high rather than six.  So it's heading in the right direction and therefore screaming for me to go ahead and F it up.

I'm supposed to be going in for my last ultrasound for a while plus our follow-up with Dr. Z on the lab reports from our D&C on Tuesday. Unfortunately I am scheduled to be conducting interviews at that time and can't really miss it.  So in an effort to reschedule for later that day we ended up being reschedule for the following Tuesday.  Eh, it won't matter how soon we find this out.  Dr. Z's not too worried about anything it seems, so we'll wait.  This will be the first week without a doctor visit for me in...wow, two months maybe?  And a lot of those weeks were two or three visit weeks.  What a mess.

We talked a little about next steps last night at our dinner party.  Our friend kind of squirmed and squinted as she asked what we were planning to do now.  I always feel so bad for making people feel uncomfortable.  I offered a little more insight into the whole story, they only knew bits and pieces.  And then I said we've decided to wait for a little while which of course got the resounding "oh good" from everyone. That's what I've heard almost every single time I say we're going to hold off for a bit and just chill.  No one in their right mind, it seems, would recommend us diving back into ART (Assisted Reproductive Technology...IVF for us) too soon after the ectopic/not ectopic debacle of 2010.  I get it, I mean, I obviously get it, I'm the one deciding to wait.  But there have been a couple of hurtful comments thrown about as well...

There are a couple of women I work with who know our story.  One in particular who knows pretty much everything because a) I needed someone to talk to during the 12 hours I was at work everyday... and b) she and I work very closely and I was always bailing out on her to go to appointments. I felt the need to over-share so she understood.  Well, last week after giving her the run down on our D&C finale she asked what our next steps were.  I said we were gonna wait for a little while before trying again.  She looked at me puzzled.  I thought maybe she would encourage me to get back on the saddle sooner, try again, "you got pregnant, you were so close, do you have to wait???".  Wrong.  She kinda looked at me for a minute and tilted her head to say "You're going to keep trying?" I froze for a second and then smiled to hide my inner WTF and said "yeah, in a little while. We're not ready to give up."  To which she said "Well with all you've been through I would start looking at adopting. I don't think I could go through that again. At least look into it". I think she said something about with how bad it went for me and how awful it was, I really shouldn't go doing it again.

I started to feel sick. She went on to tell me that she would be livid at this doctor and the entire process and wouldn't be able to even consider it again.  I told her that it was a lot but hopefully it wouldn't be like THAT again, and really it was just our first try.  She said that there are so many babies who need adopting.  I mean, what do you say to that?  Yes, I agreed, but we really wanted to try for our own for a while. I wanted to be pregnant one day, if I could.  Then she told me that "it's not all that it's cracked up to be".  That she wouldn't recommend it.

I kind of zoned out at that point.  She ended up staying at my desk for another 30 minutes talking about other things, her kid, her cousin's kids who are living with her parents because her cousin split, our problems at work, whatever.  I was just so numb. I try to be reasonable- honestly, I understand- I never know what to say. I feel like I ALWAYS say the wrong thing, so I understand.  It's an unimaginable process and even harder to imagine how to respond to someone going through it.  But she really dove into my nightmare on that one. She even swam around in it for a bit.

There are always the comments on pregnancy being a lot worse than people making it out to be. I get that.  There are the comments about parenting being incredibly difficult and how lucky we are to just be us right now. I get that, too.  They hurt, but I get it.  But please don't push adoption on people who are struggling through ART.  We obviously have decided to go through IVF on our own terms rather than adopt at this point. Not to say that the future couldn't change that, but if we're going through IVF or IUI treatment, we've made that decision for a reason. We want to try and get pregnant right now. Period.

I just wish some people, fertile people, could feel this for one second.  Not for very long, I wouldn't wish that on anyone.  But just for a second, feel what it's like to not know if you'll be able to create a child.  To not know if you will be able to carry a baby to term, give her life- real life.  But let me clarify- it's not to KNOW that you WON'T be able to create a child. It's the not knowing that really hurts.  Maybe we can, maybe we will.  Maybe we won't.  How can I not try if there's a chance? How can I muster the courage to try again? It's a fragile line to walk, and it burns. Pieces of me are dying off everytime I think about it, important pieces that I don't think I'll ever get back.  Pieces that made me smile and laugh big belly laughs back before I knew or even cared about fertility.  Those pieces that other women get to keep forever are slowly fading away for me.  There will always be an empty space where there used to be a bit of innocence in me, a bit of naive optimism.  I just want some of those other fertile women to know what that really means, just for a second.  A tiny moment.

But this is my journey to walk, not theirs.  Everyone has their own line, their own shadows and sunlights.