On the edge of another cycle's end and that ever-familiar feeling of waiting for the train. Waiting to get onboard, or I guess, waiting to find out that the train isn't coming today. I wasn't too hopeful this month, I did the stimulant injectibles but didn't actually do the IUI process. It was partly because the dates fell over a public holiday, and the doctor felt that we could try naturally. The calculation to this is that you could try naturally every day, while doing an IUI meant that we would have to not try for most of that period, as you are meant to give enough rest time for the sperm sample collected to be good. Part of me wanted to believe so and was glad to have more ease to try. Part of me, remembering the low scores on 'normal shapes' and motility from the last IUI, was concerned that not doing an IUI would render the whole painful process of the injectibles and four follicles a waste.
As it turned out, the husband had to stay in the office, over the long weekend, for most of the 12 hours after the trigger shot.
It's hard not to put stress on yourself but you know what's harder? Being stressed about not being stressed! I seem to worry about everything and then about every anxiety being a stressor! So many people told me that "it happened when they least expected it" that I mentally tried not to expect it, which is just infuriating.
In all honesty though, it does seem like people I'm close to have stopped talking about it. When I tell them, they change the subject, or ask if I'm taking my Chinese meds. So I too, have started to turn toward other parts of my life, I've started to immerse myself more into work again, to even let myself be stressed by work. We bought a new apartments and are starting renovations. I love rebuilding, I love tiles and beautiful, tangible products. Once in awhile, on a particularly quiet, peaceful Sunday in the sun-lit reading room, I'll let my mind wander to how long it will take. Once in awhile, in a loving moment, when we are listening to soft jazz and reading together in the fuzzy evening bedroom light, I silently talk to this imaginary child and ask him, where are you, how come you're not here yet, when we want and love you so much already. But there are also other moments, when I tangibly feel how limiting it will be, when he is here — how tired we will be, how overwhelmed by trying to compromise all we had before and more.
I feel a bit insulted when parents tell us they don't remember what life was before their children or what they used to do before they had kids, because I want to tell them, I like this. I do like how we are because I know our relationship now, is just as blissful as we'll be with or without children, maybe even more then when we've had them. There are moments, when I think we should just take a month off and go to Argentina and who cares, how this turns out, at the end of the day, we have each other, it's enough.
I do want the BFP (Big, Fat, Positive) and I'm curious whether it feels like disbelief, or just apprehension, relief and joy, but for now, I'm just trying to keep the feeling of disillusionment at bay and not feel alarmed. The last few times I went to the clinic, I bumped into women whom I'd seen before, except that they were now both pregnant and pushing strollers. I've had friends progress from considering pregnancy, to delivering. The Duchess of Cambridge between getting married and being a national envoy is also now pregnant. Surely we wouldn't have too long to wait?
