I was trying to capture the perfect metaphore for the last week, and just the up and down of IVF. This is my attempt.
Infertility is like being stuck at sea, treading water, hoping deperately to get to dry land. IVF is like a rush to the shore. You paddle and paddle with all your might. The beach is in sight and you think you are almost there. For some, it's just a few more stroks and they are there. But for others, a big wave comes, drags you under, and pulls you back out to sea. You gasp out into the salty water, wondering if you can get back for air, thinking "I was so close, I was so close".
I feel like last week I was still under water, and I feel like today I've just pulled myself up and I'm breathing again.
Of course, I'm not silly enough to think that the pain is over and that suddenly I'm going to be okay. But today I've actually been happy. Today I've been able to hold it together. Today I've been able to hope and even get at least a little bit excited about the future. Today I've been able to read blogs of people who are recently pregnant and felt that maybe there miracles might be my miracles soon, instead of feeling like God has once again passed over me to bless others.
Even as I write that last line, a little wave of depression rushes over me. But I fight back to the surface and continue to paddle.
One of the hardest things about IVF is that when you face the disappointment of a BFN or AF- the impatients rises up. While I'm under the waves i think, I don't care if I get pregnant in six months. I don't want to be pregnant in six months. I want to be pregnant now. I want the miracle to have already happened. And Thumper compounds it because I can't help thinking of the might have beens, that the waiting could have been completely over, that we could have him with us right now.
I read of others who are blessed and I want what they have so bad I can hardly breath. Walking home on the day I got my period, I could actually physically feel the emptiness in my chest, as if I really did have a baby shaped hole in my heart.
Today, the idea of having a baby is six months is a happy thought, and I think, okay, maybe I will survive this.
Please keep praying for me. I so desperately want this.