Sunday, January 9, 2011
#1 - My mom and I left the doctor's office. Tears were falling, and I just wanted the hell out of there. Although she has never experienced what I have with infertility, she has always known my dreams and I was thankful to have my mom with me. We got to the parking garage, and that's when it happened. Before even getting into the car, she grabbed me into a big hug. I broke down sobbing. I'm talking bawling out loud in front of the world, and I didn't even care. "This is not the end of your story," I heard, and that is what I want to believe.
#2 - A week or so later, I met my best friend for lunch. Our friendship has been strained (to say the least) because of my need to isolate myself during IF. While our 30 year friendship is not nearly what it was, we are slowly working hard to rebuild it. She doesn't read this blog (I don't think), so she did not know about our whirlwind attempt at IVF. When I told her what we had been through and what had been taken from us, she teared up a bit, shook her head, and said, "That sucks. There is nothing else I can say." What a true statement that is.
#3 - Fast forward a couple of more weeks to Christmas. My Dad "J" (who is actually my stepdad that also raised me from age 2) was aware that we'd hopefully know by the holidays if our IVF resulted in a pregnancy. Because I didn't have the courage to call and tell him that it had not, he asked me about it Christmas Day. "Hey! I've gotten emails from you, but nothing hearing what I want to hear!" I just dropped my head a bit, teared up a little, and said, "Well . . . it . . . it didn't work." At that point, my often undemonstrative Dad hugged me and told me it would be okay no matter what. He looked at me and said, "I always wanted a daughter, and I got one!" As did I get a second Daddy.
While these words can't fix anything that is broken (not even my heart), they stay in my mind and heart, and they do help. They also stay locked in my mind reminding me what I do have - people who love me.