Home Again. Thank GOD.
I forgot just how damn cold my MIL’s house is. She’s like a popsicle, that one. I do love sitting in the living room with the fire going and everyone hanging out. Except this year. The wood got wet and all we got was a lousy DuraFlame which doesn’t give out any damn heat. Did you know that?? I did not. And so, there was nowhere to go in the house except upstairs to our bedroom where we control the heat. Needless to say, I spent many hours under the covers sleeping, reading and spooning in order to stay alive. I’m sure I was tagged the anti-social daughter-in-law.
We got home on Saturday night and it is SO nice to be home again. Four days with family is really about 2 days too long for me. K’s family is great, but if the weather is not cooperative (icy and/or rainy) there’s nothing to do. I mean nothing. It starts to get a little Shining-like. Games are all fine and dandy but not if you’re going to freeze to death playing them. I was beyond bored and so ready to go home by Christmas night.
I forgot to mention that I spoke to my mom on Christmas morning while I was crying in bed. One thing this past year has taught me is that my mom–despite the mother she was (or wasn’t) while I was growing up–has changed. She will never be the mother I wish for, but she’s doing a damn good job being there for me with this TTC journey.
At times like this, a mother’s support is priceless. K’s family is very supportive, but they are mostly happy alcoholic ostriches. They will hug you, but they don’t want to talk about ‘it’ or hear about ‘it’ because then they have to confront that everything is not OK. I liken them to having their heads in the sand like an ostrich and when forced to face reality (you know, like, everyday) the solution is to drink! Which is why there is a strict starting time of a 5pm cocktail hour in their household.
So while I ‘feel’ their support around us, it’s not like my mother who wants to know how I am and what’s next and she’s so sorry and how much she’s praying for us. Just knowing that someone is not afraid to talk about ‘it’ means so much.
This TTC journey has taken so long that I think K’s family has no idea what to say. I never dreamed I’d have a child by Christmas, but I thought I’d at least be pregnant. Hey, I know how old I am and I thought I was aiming realistically! Christmas was hard. Much harder than I ever thought it would be.
My clinic was closed over the holidays so there was no way to come in for Day 3 bloodwork. That’s OK, it’s too late for me to do an IVF cycle for Januaray anyway as they are solidly booked. AF was not herself (again) this month. She came a day late, but her visit was clotting and crampy and only lasted 2 days. This is not usual for me.
I can’t believe I’m taking another break, but here we are: one month on, one month off since August.
It’s good for my body to take a breather and clear out some of the drugs before we start pumping me full up again but damn I feel like I’m running out of time.
The miscarriage, combined with a failed/poor responder IVF cycle immediately following, has left me in a low-hope stage.
I had remained incredibly hopeful up until October. This past year has been difficult, but not nearly as hard as it could be. I have never been without hope that I can do this.
When I failed to respond to the IVF drugs, it hit me that IVF isn’t the magic bullet. Yes, I have options and I am so damn lucky to have them, but none of the options will guarantee me a real live baby.
When I realized this is when I started losing hope. So I’m going into this next cycle trying my best to keep my head up and find that hope again.
This baby, in whatever form it takes, will come when it is ready to be here with us.
I just have to accept this and let it go.
I find this is much easier to do on a beach.