Operation Little People: A Rant Of An Update

that’s what my husband has deemed Thursday.

We go in for our IVF consult that morning & then to our foster parent informational meeting that night.

While it’ll be a busy, I prefer it to the purgatory of the waiting & uncertainty we are currently residing in. The, “what should we dos?” &, “when should we do it?”s have been eating me up.

As bad as fertility drugs are, I feel like the limbo of infertility treatment is even worse. At least in the worst days of Clomid, I felt like I was working toward something. Like the emotional roller coaster would be worth it in the end because of where it was leading me. Even though it’s not the case, I feel like we’re giving up in limbo. I feel that way despite the fact that we’re giving my body a much needed break. Despite the fact that we’re allowing my PTSD triggers of the gynecological world to rest. Despite the fact that I’ve already created a Go Fund Me page, as well as contacted RADA to start a fundraiser that will hopefully soften the IVF cost (just a bit!). Despite the fact that we’re finally going to a foster parent meeting, instead of toying around with the idea that maybe we’ll delve into it at an unspecified moment in time.

& I can’t tell you why I feel this way when I can logically see us giving up is the furthest thing from true. But that’s the thing about feelings, they don’t have to make sense.  In fact, they rarely do.

Currently, I’m the most depressed I’ve ever been in relation to the infertility saga. Initially, I really believed the IUIs would do the trick. With every one that failed, it’ll be the next one I thought. Next time will work. So, with every passing attempt, I grew more & more hopeful that would be the case. If you’ve followed along (&/or are reading this now), you know that was not the case for us. IUI was not our get out of jail free card. Instead, it was our RETURN HOME space in the game. Oh, how I hate this damned game.

Despite depression rearing its ugly head, I am trying-with everything in me-to remain hopeful. Or at least see the tiny glimmer of hope in a far off distance. I’m trying to focus on the things I do have control over in this. The decisions we’ve made in taking a break, as my therapist pointed out, were our decisions. That in itself was something we had/have control over. Giving my body a break was a choice. And going to this consult & fundraising our asses off is a big choice. As is the foster parent meeting.

I am mustering every seed of hope I have left in my body to believe, really believe, that good things are on the horizon.

In the words of The Fairy Godmother in Cinderella, “Even miracles take a little time.”

I apologize for the rambling that is this post.

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http://www.gofundme.com/wza2bbp2

Rada Cutlery fundraiser: To order go to the follow website: http://www.helpourfundraiser.com
Everyone will then use the same customer number 505602 & the password ivfbaby (must be lower case).
Any order-big, or small-helps more than you will ever know.
Side note: my family has ordered from RADA in the past & they all LOVE the tomato slicer knife.