I’m not brave. Unless you consider shoving all the scary and worrisome thoughts one could possibly hold into the back corner of their brain and selfishly ignoring their very existence for fear of them being discovered and brought to light. Then, and only then, could one consider me brave. So, today, I will purposely ignore how entirely petrified I am of going to Dr. Local’s office to discuss our move on to IVF come January. Oh, it’s not the office that scares me. It’s not the staff, or even the fact that it could come down to some fancy high tech assistance to make this happen. Nope, it’s the process that intimidates me.
The needles, the drugs, the highs, the lows, the fear, the anxiety, especially the hope, and keeping it together enough to be a loving wife and doting mother. Yep, that’s what makes me nervous. My mind keeps drifting back to something Eleanor Roosevelt once said, “A woman is like a tea bag-you never know how strong she is until you put her in hot water.” Perhaps I’ve been in hot water for some time now, and I’m just seeping. Perhaps with each new experience, I’m gaining more strength. I just never knew it. I will have to take all of my small victories and wrap them up in my mind so that I may call upon them to remind me that this task is not too big. We can do it, as a team. We are not alone.
We’ve done a lot of talking about IVF in the past few weeks with friends and family. We’re hoping that miraculously this cycle will work (Quick Update: 1- 19mm follicle on the left and 1- 12 mm follicle on the right,) and we won’t need to go down IVF Turnpike. The recurring questions seems to be, “Why?” People want to know why we want to do this when we have a delicious little man at home. So, I give you this answer….
Growing up we had the most amazing tree in our front yard. My little brother and I would spend hours in it. We’d laugh and tell stories. I’d read books, and he would see how high he could climb. We would jump out of the barn window when nobody was looking. We built forts out of bails of hay, played hide and go seek in the cornfield, and built igloos in the snow. We snuck out when we were ten and eight years old, scaling the roof and climbing down to the ground. How we survived is beyond me! My brother and I were a team. He was the brave one, my protector. I was the social and creative one, the entertainer.
One year my brother and I got to have our own room while vacationing. It was an amazing ocean view room, where our back door walked straight on to the beach. The world was our oyster. The only catch being we had to go everywhere together. So, we spent a week compromising, playing volleyball, swimming, relaxing on the beach, and exploring all the resort had to offer…to include midnight french fries and ice cream!
Now, I look at my brother and how he is with Lucky and it brings such joy to my heart. It reminds me of all those magical moments we had as children. We had so much fun doing anything we did. We were the creators and masters of our own special world. I wouldn’t trade our childhood for anything, and I know how special a bond Lucky and my brother will have. He has a pretty cool uncle if you ask me!
So, my answer is what? I don’t want Lucky to miss out on having a sibling. I look back at all those memories and imagine those things happening to just me. The tree wouldn’t have been as exciting, there would have been nobody to seek, nobody to annoy or have to compromise with, nobody to share these memories with. I want him to have that, just as much as I want to see the light in another one of our children’s eyes. I want Lucky to get to be an uncle some day too, just like his Uncle Chris. That’s my reason for all of this
“You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, ‘I have lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.’ You must do the thing you think you cannot do.”
Eleanor Roosevelt
