It has been a very long time since I have posted. Work is finally slowing down on our house. Now it is just smaller projects, like removing wallpaper. You know easy stuff 😒 The neighborhood is very different. Less density and very quiet.
So we talked about trying to have another baby. This deadline looms in front of me now. It is something we want to try for but there is just so much shit involved. If I really start to think of it and the logistics and the medicine and just general derailing of our lives it will cause, it scares the hell out of me.
I am so grateful to have E. He is a sweet little boy. I would love him to have a sibling but I know how hard and complicated this will be and there is a good chance it will not work. We have said we would try three times and that’s it. We were unbelievably fortunate that our donor produced so many eggs and that so many made it to embryos. It’s a blessing and a problem. How do you decide when to stop? It is easy for me to say right now that three would be our limit but what about the rest of them. Could I really just not try if the first three fail? I understand that this is a”good” problem to have. Too many options/chances is better than too few.
I also worry about what this will do to me as a mother. I will be hopped up on hormones for months. And all of those hormones could just be for nothing. I was astonished when I felt no real mood swings from my three cycles but that was when it was just me. I didn’t have a toddler following me around, demanding I read “What wheels do all day” twenty times a day.
My husband has been very supportive. He’s been great. But he can only offer a certain level of comfort because he can never truly understand. I’m sure his position comes with its own set of worries and anxiety that I will never fully understand. I do feel more weight I think. After all, it is my body that is the problem.
After having E, it is so easy to comparmentilize my infertility. I can put it in a little box and stash it away. On the surface, no one would ever know or question it, I’m just a mom with her kid. I was getting drinks for a friend’s birthday last month with a bunch of women I didn’t really know. They are all about my age and have kids. That subject came up and they all started talking about how easy it was for them to become pregnant. Like catching a cold. There was talk about how they had to be so careful because they didn’t want a billion kids. There were jokes about their husbands getting the snip and it just went on. I tend to be an over sharer but I kept my mouth shut. My friend, who knows my story, shot me a sad, apologetic glance. Talking about IF is a real downer in social situations. It doesn’t bother me to share my story but it immediately changes the mood of the group. Everyone goes quiet, there is a lot of apologizing and a lot of sympathy. I figured birthday drinks for a friend with strangers wasn’t the right time to share.
So our timeline for trying is looming, like I said. Like May. So I would have to be on birth control soonish I’d suspect. God knows what tests I’ll have to do before we can even consider a transfer. In many ways, it feels like starting over. Except for E. My sweet boy. It is funny to worry how this will affect him but also want to do it partly for him. I would love for him to have a sibling. Who knows how I’ll feel this time next year.