Friday, November 05, 2004

here we go again

I promised myself that I wouldn't do this. Not yet, anyway. But there's something about having a real date (okay, it's really more like a vague date) on the calendar for starting IVF that has made me forget all my past disappointments and has gotten me planning again.

I know it's foolish. I know that we may not find sperm, that we may end up using a donor. I know that I might not respond well to the drugs, that my cycle could be canceled for any number of reasons, that I could go through the whole procedure and wind up with a chemical pregnancy or no pregnancy at all.

But yet. But yet I've returned to the websites that estimate your due date. I've entered all possible March dates and know that if (big IF) this works, I'd be due in December. I've started planning a nursery again, thinking about a maternity clothes, baby names. I'm not as crazed as I was a year ago. It's too early for that. But then, isn't it a bit premature to start thinking about this other stuff, too?

It hit me yesterday that I'll be 33 when my baby is born. At the youngest. And while I know that's not old in the grand scheme of things, it's definitely older than I thought I would be when I started building my family. Of course, it doesn't help matters any that I was 30 when I got married, but still. We never thought we'd have any trouble and I figured 31, 32 maybe. But 33? And that'll just be the first one.

I'm excited about having a plan. But worried about all the time that I have to work myself into a frenzy. I remember how crazy I got when we started trying a little more than a year ago. And this time it's different of course. No charting my temps every morning. No timed intercourse. My period comes and goes on schedule and it's not the heartwrenching ordeal that it once was. I've come to expect it. But I know that as March gets closer and the prospect of pregnancy becomes more and more a reality, I will once again walk that line between unbridled optimism and paralyzing pessimism. One day sure that it will work and the next day certain that I am doomed to be childless forever.

I expect the next few months to be a roller-coaster of emotions. And I know that as we start this process the ride will only become more wild. I predict many ups and downs, good days and bad. I hope that I can stay optimistic. Focus on the ultimate goal. Remember that somehow, someday I will be a mother. But I'm afraid to let myself get too hopeful because I do remember how awful the bad days were when trying to conceive only meant having sex around the time I was ovulating and didn't involve a team of doctors, nurses and technicians. Didn't cost thousands of dollars and involve international plane travel. I suppose that there's a happy medium somewhere in between the wishing and hoping and the dreading and disappointment. I hope I can find it. And stay there for awhile.

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