I Need a Sign

I just realized it’s been almost a month since I last posted. A MONTH. How in the hell does that happen. I mean I have so much to say. Or at least I DID - Back when I was all consumed by IF and I lived and breathed and ate and slept and analyzed and dreamed it 24 f’n 7.

For the last 13 months, the path has been pretty clear. From the time I knew this wasn’t going to be an easy journey, I had a plan in place. Full steam ahead until we make this happen. I even found  myself doing some minor manipulating in order to sway my not so full steam ahead DH in the direction I thought we should take (not something I’m proud of  but nevertheless, determination can be a beast sometimes!).  I read blogs.  I searched the internet. I read books. I ranted and raved on IF boards.  I spent virtually every waking hour thinking, researching and hell bent on getting pregnant.  I had very little time for anything else.

I couldn’t even look at a pregnant woman without seething. I gave up Facebook. I had to detox from my out of control slight obsession with celebrities and put down the People Magazines - I cannot count on all my fingers and toes the number of celebs expecting at this very moment  - the number is staggering. I mean what the hells in the water in Hollywood?  I know people think this makes me crazy but I can’t help it – it bothers me. These people have fame fortune and everything else, why do they get a baby too?????? It just fueled my idea that the entire universe was against me and the people around me didn’t deserve babies – only me. I questioned everyone and everything. Even God. How could HE do this to me?

Sometime, someway something shifted. I can’t give you a specific time or date or place. All I know is my vision has changed. The purpose is still the same of course, but I quickly realized that I was lost and going nowhere fast. It’s a hellacious way to live. My marriage was suffering. I mean how on earth can you plot a pregnancy when you don’t even try to do it the natural way anymore? This is what I/we had become. Strangers. Resentful. Asking ourselves if we even still want a child with this crazy loon person. DH doesn’t really touch me much these days but asks me on a regular basis if I have made a decision. This is a prime example of tables turning people in case you missed it!

And what decision you ask? Welp…that would be whether to try another IUI or move forward with IVF.  I thought I knew. If the new RE had offered to do it that day, I probably would have jumped his desk spread eagle that very minute.  But no worries.  He didn’t. And I didn’t.  What he did do was put me at ease. Make me confident. He didn’t make any promises he might not be able to keep. He didn’t make me feel stupid or silly for wanting something so badly. In fact, he almost made me feel like I was part of some elite club of people that get to do this awesome thing to make a baby.  I left there excited about the opportunity instead of dreading it. DH even said, “this guy kind of sounds like he knows what he is talking about.” I think they became buddies when he responded to my husband’s blank stare with “if you retain 30% of what I just said you are a hell of a lot better off than most men.” 

But, the question still remains. I have no idea how to proceed. I want to move forward but my feel seem perfectly planted on the ground.   I don’t know the right thing to do, the best way to go. I keep thinking the answer will fall from the sky and land in my belly. (Hey it could happen – I mean if a trip to Aruba or a relaxing cup of tea works, then anything is possible right?)  I keep waiting for a sign, a notion, a clear image of what path I am supposed to take.   It’s kind of like waiting for two pink lines. It doesn’t happen.

In the meantime, I took a jewelry class, repainted a side table in our dining room, hung pictures on the walls (we weren’t sure how long we would be living in our townhouse so most of our pictures are leaning again the wall on the floor), swapped my FB addiction for Pinterest and vowed to try 3 new recipes every week, kept seeing my therapist and started talking less about babies and more about why I am so f’d up in the head aside from IF.  On a trip home from a mountain wedding, we took the longer scenic route and it made me want to try white water rafting. WHAT.  I make sure I kiss my husband every night when he gets home from work, whether I really want to or not. I’m pitching in my grandmother’s 90^th birthday party – a step-grandmother who has never really considered or treated me like a granddaughter but hey, if you can’t beat ‘em, plan a fabulous birthday bash for ‘em, right?

I mean anything is better than the way it was before. I can’t go back there. I’m not sure I can pee on sticks, and give myself shots and spend $19,000 with no guarantee. I‘m just not sure I have the strength.  Even thinking about making a decision hurts my mind and my soul and frankly exhausts me. So for now, my answer is “I don’t know yet” and for the first time in a long time, I’m okay with that.