I know it’s taken me awhile to write, but I’ve had so many random thoughts, I knew they wouldn’t come together in a blog. I also knew that as I wrote this, it would bring back emotions that I would just rather stuff back where they came from and never release again, but it’s probably better to acknowledge them, admit that they are there, and move on.
When we got the call, it was a blow. There was no getting around it. I tried and tried to prepare myself and Joey, but as soon as she said “I wish we were calling with better news”, I lost it. I don’t even know what she said after that. I was just devastated. Joey could obviously see the conversation that was taking place over the phone and he came and sat beside me. He put his arms around me and we both just sat there and cried. We cried as though something/someone had just died. We mourned over our idea, our wish, our dream that just didn’t come true. I don’t even think we spoke a word, we just sat in silence for hours, trying to understand what we had just been told.
A million things can pop into your mind in one split second. Yes…the shots, the appointments, the blood draws, the turmoil…all for nothing. But more than that, all that we had worked and wished for was gone. All with one phone call. There is nothing left.
The news that was given to us dictates if we ever get to play Santa, the Tooth Fairy, or hide eggs from the Easter Bunny. If we ever get to coach our kids in sports, camp as a family or see the wonder and amazement in our child’s eyes. Who will we show this fantastic world to? Who will share the love and hate and all of the life lessons that are learned along the way?
It dictates if I would ever get to say, “she laughs just like me” or “he throws a ball just like Joey”, along with a million other things I can think of.
It would determine if my family tree stops at me. I know it sounds crazy, but I did a project in third grade with my family tree. To this day, I remember it vividly. It’s THE reason I kept my maiden name as a middle name, so that my children and my children’s children and my children’s children’s children could always find me and know where they came from. And now my branch might just end.
And who’s going to take care of us when we’re old? Inevitably one of us is going to die first and the other will be left with no one. No one who is as invested as your own children are. To share the memories and stories of the life you once lived.
It’s thoughts like these that I’m not sure ever leave your mind. It’s thoughts like these that I have to think about and most people never do. It’s thoughts like these that make you wonder, “What if? One more try?”.
We went to the doctor yesterday for a follow up. She has no answers for us. She wishes that she had what we were looking for, but she just can’t seem to figure out why a young(er), healthy woman would have problems with egg quality. Why the medicines didn’t give me the boost that I needed to produce healthy, strong eggs. So we are just left wondering. I have been racking my brain trying to think of things that may have happened to me in the past that have taken a toll on my body…but nothing. She recommends that we try one more time. She says that sometimes its trial and error. If we do it again, she would change the meds and boost them up, since I obviously tolerated them too well last time. She would do all that she could and raise the doses as much as possible to make sure we had the best chance to get strong, healthy eggs. After a second try, she would recommend donor eggs.
Joey and I obviously have a lot of thinking to do. I never even thought I would do this once and now the opportunity is being thrown at me again. The doctor is very convincing and since our insurance pays for the majority of it, why should we not try again? Will that take away the “what if” factor and leave me with the answers I need, even if a child doesn’t come out of it? And if it does work, we would have our own little being, created out of love, that we could cherish for the rest of our lives. It’s definitely tempting.
But the shots, the emotions, the devastation…is it worth it? There is not a better word for it than exhausting. It drains the life out of you. I kept in pretty good spirits through the whole process, but I would not say that I was truly living life. I was in a fog the entire time. Something is always in your mind that just won’t leave and haunts you everywhere you go. Every ounce of you is being taken over by this process. Exhausting.
But, then again, the whole process from the first shot is only five weeks and in the grand scheme of things, that’s really a blink of an eye.
I could keep going back and forth, but frankly, I don’t want to think about it. I have a trip to Vegas coming up in a couple of weeks and I just want to relax. There are also a few other doctors that I want to look into and some homeopathic stuff. If we decide to do this again, I want to start preparing my body months in advance, so I can really truly say we gave it our best shot.
Until then, I may be blogged-out for a while (maybe a few random blogs here and there). I have truly enjoyed writing and I thank you for following our journey and being so supportive. We are blessed with so many great friends and can’t express how much your support has meant to us. For right now, we just want to live life. We can be the couple you call when you want to get away from your kids, or the couple you call when you need someone to watch your kids. We can refocus on being a great friend, aunt, uncle, daughter, son, brother, sister, employee and all of the other amazing things that define us as human beings. At any rate, call us, we have time on our hands….for now.
My Random Thought: But if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need. ~ The Rolling Stones