In the Waiting

The one thing I hate the most with the fertility treatments is the waiting. I'm in the 2-week waiting period. It's a terrible time. You wait for what will come at the end of the month. I can't get my hopes up, I mean, it's been over two years with nothing. But I so want to make it to the end of the month and know that I don't have to wait anymore. But I have learned not to expect that, but rather to hope for it. I can't allow myself to get so excited about the unknown. It just leaves the door open for heartbreak and disappointment. 

You know, the one thing that keeps me strong on this journey is my faith. I quoted a very inspiring song in one of my letters to my unconceived child. The lyrics are from "Praise You in This Storm" by Casting Crowns. They go like this: "I will praise you in this storm. I will lift my hands. For you are who you are no matter where I am. And every tear I've cried, you hold in your hands. You've never left my side, though my heart is torn, I will praise you in this storm." Powerful words! I hate to look at this as though it is a storm, but it is a difficult journey, nonetheless. So that song really helps me keep the right perspective.

So I'm worried about possibly moving on to daily injectables. I have a consult with my doctor in the morning of the 30th. It's just before the end of this cycle, so I won't know whether or not I need to start the injectables. But because it is the next step, it requires that I sit down with the doctor and discuss what his plans are and what medications are available. And if I move on to daily injectables, I'll be at the doctor's office so many days a month! I'm not looking forward to that. But, the end result is one I want, so I will do what it takes!

As frustrating as the journey is, I keep going. I am blessed with a husband who is patient with me. He wants a baby and he knows that I want one so badly. But he's always so patient with my ill-behaved ovaries. I don't know many men who would be as kind as he is when I'm having my Clomid emotional meltdowns. I don't yell or scream, I just cry. He looks at me, I cry. He says sweet things to me, I cry. He talks to me in a not-so-nice tone of voice, I cry. He hugs me, I cry. And yet, he just deals with it and loves on me. How did I get so blessed? It makes the journey easier when you have someone like Phil by your side.