Well, Bonnie, now that you've threatened future death to this poor blog, I feel strangely impelled to post... haha!
I got my period yesterday. Yippee. Now, after "welcoming" it back 7 months after Bran and Nuala were born (isn't that soon? especially when nursing twins?? it seemed too soon to me. Heck, anytime would be too soon...), I didn't really think much of it, except to bemoan the annoyance. You all remember how it WAS...back before we knew how difficult/impossible it would be to have children the good old-fashioned fun way...every period in the timeframe between giddily and nervously deciding to start trying, and then getting the news from the doc that, "Hey! There's a REASON you aren't blissfully blossoming into mommyhood!" was met with disappointment, frustration, and, quite often, tears. And most likely loads of chocolate. At least in my case and I'm pretty sure in Bonnie's case, too... And don't even get me started on when it would have the nerve to be late. Sheesh.
At least after finding out we'd need loads of help to actually get pregnant, my hopes didn't get as high each month. Of course, they still crashed and burned, no matter the height, and, sure, it was a monthly reminder of our infertility, but whatever. At least it was just a fall from a 20-story building, not the Eiffel Tower.
But after N&B came along, the emotional pain of the monthly "not pregnant" indicator faded. Not faded. Flat-out disappeared. Small babies seem to satisfy the aching desire for small babies. Weird, huh? Once they hit about 18 months or so, though, I started taking notice of my monthly visitor. Still not despairingly so, but a small voice inside me would say, "hmmm, wouldn't it be so cool IF..." and a teeny little part of me would get my hopes up that this would be the month that our miracle of surprise pregnancy would come. And I never expected that to happen, and I wasn't sad or disappointed when my period would finally arrive, but there was always that little, quiet hope.
We had been semi-planning to do a cycle of IVF this month, in which case I would have called the doc yesterday, with the arrival of my dear, dear friend (said oh-so-sarcastically) and arranged to begin. Wow. BUT, we aren't. We have to get some other things in order, and my husband will be out of town for a bit this month, and the in-laws are visiting, so we're holding off. In April, hubby will be gone for a big chunk, and honestly, everything that IVF entails, plus having two 2-year olds, will just go much better if he's around. So May. Lookin' at May, here.
But starting all this up again just made that little hope that rustles around each month all that more...rustly. I couldn't help but think: surely THIS is the time for our surprise to happen! That's what you hear about! The couple about to embark on a cycle, or begin the adoption process, and WHAM! Pregnant!
Dang it.
Do you think that little hope ever goes away? Do you think fertile women experience that, as well? I mean, I know every woman trying to get pregnant (even the ones with 8 kids already who always test positive EARLY on their first month of trying) will be counting the days until she should start, and harboring the hope that the timing this month was spot-on, but do you think that women who have no trouble getting pregnant but aren't actually trying to do so in that particular cycle approach their impending period due-date with that tiny little seed of hope? Is it just something that's inborn? I think so.
Thinking back to the time before we knew about our infertility and before we were trying to get pregnant, even though I didn't necessarily want to be pregnant, I remember thinking -- not thinking, it wasn't that conscious or acknowledged -- just feeling a little twinge of excitement, sometimes terrified excitement, but yes, excitement at the possibility that there could be a little life burrowing into mine.
That's the word: Possibility...potential. That's what each new period represents. Not necessarily just the possibility lost, but the next one coming up, too.
So, pass the tampons, the circle of (in)fertility begins anew.
(Apologies for the rambly nature of this post...I'll use the "it's that time of the month" excuse, please.)
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2 comments:
Ha! Who knew that all the blog needed to take off again was a little death threat? :)
I hate getting my period. Even though I know the odds of my being pregnant are virtually zero, I still have that little bit of hope every month. Especially because once I did have a miracle, it makes it that much worse now.
Mother Nature can be so cruel.
For awhile there I was totally and extremely devastated every single month. I would often describe it to others (people that didn't understand and probably never will) that it felt like I was mourning the death of a child every single month. I mean, you're literally flushing down the toilet what would have been half of a baby! Fiona, I totally love your thoughts on hope. Hope is what keeps us pressing forward. I, too, will continue to have that twinge each month, always and forever. Hang in there girl...bring on May!
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