Whatever happens, however the second beta on Saturday goes, or how the subsequent ultrasounds look, I really, actually am allowed to say that about myself right now.  I can’t believe it.  There was a part of me that thought I would never get here – that for some unknown reason I was just doomed to be caught in that limbo forever.  I mean, really, I’m turning 39 on Saturday, and I’m pregnant for the very first time in my life.

I know we’re not nearly out of the woods yet, but I’m choosing to be excited and hopeful.  One of the reasons I decided to go with donor eggs sooner rather than later is because the idea of having a pregnancy with a little less fear was very appealing to me, especially after all we’ve been through.  I’m not naive, but I also know that my worrying about things ahead of time – my being afraid – won’t protect me or make a loss any easier to bear.  Now, let’s see if I can hold myself to that.  I’m really going to try.

J was incredibly sweet and comforting the whole 2ww.  He’s the most rational person I know, but still pointed out “good omens” to help bolster my hope.  He would patiently list the reasons we had to be hopeful as many times as I asked him to.  He actually had three amazing dreams during those two weeks.  In the first, we were caring for two brand-new puppies on our bed.  In the two more recent dreams, I told him I got a BFP.  It’s so funny that he – the scientist and empiricist- ended up having those dreams.

I wouldn’t have gotten here with most of my sanity intact without the help and support from some seriously generous souls – twitter-friends who listened to my obsessive symptom-listing during that awful two weeks, IRL friends who knew of our struggles and who let me know they were hoping hard for me, E who sent me a photo of her LONG-struggled-for baby girl for inspiration.  Without such a supportive community of people I definitely would have emerged from that torturous time with a LOT more gray hairs and a MUCH larger butt.

And I couldn’t have gotten here without my egg donor.  When I felt completely hopeless, I’d think of her and how “right” she seems for us.  Somehow that “rightness” made me believe this cycle could work, though I know that reasoning makes no rational sense.  I kept the card she left me next to my bed alongside the pictures of our embies.  Over and over I’d read her words, “My thoughts will be with you in the days and weeks ahead.  May your home be full of love and laughter!”.  It felt like a blessing.

– Patience

 

 

 

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