The past two months have been depressing. I mean the can hardly get dressed in the morning, don’t mind if I miss a meal or three, overwhelming fear kind of depressing. After our initial diagnosis, we had to wait three weeks for our appointment with the RE because of DH’s work schedule. Those first three weeks were brutal. I spent most of each day researching everything I could about our diagnosis, its causes, and our options. I hoped and prayed for something fixable. I looked into all the treatment options and adoption and the ins and outs of everything. I wanted to know, right then, what plan A, B, and C were for starting our family. I had three weeks to wait. Of course, DH was processing things differently, but that’s a subject for another post.
Our first consult was so comforting. We were very optimistic. But after some further blood work and other opinions, our expectations were a bit far off the mark.
Oddly, though, today I feel peaceful. DH says the same. We were both hoping to find out something different yesterday, but we didn’t. We are still hoping that I will get pregnant in my first cycle of treatment. Of course, it’s equally likely (perhaps more likely) that things won’t go perfectly starting when we get to treatments any more than they’ve gone perfectly since we started TTC last September. But we are hopeful and we feel peaceful nonetheless. I can’t explain the peace, but I think it’s a gift from God. I hope it will stay with us through the months of waiting. I’m a bit more functional with the peace.
That’s not to say there won’t be more hard days, more teary mornings, more difficult moments when I see moms with their flocks of children at the grocery store. It probably won’t change the way I feel when people ask me, “When are you going to have children?” or “Married five years? No kids yet? Don’t you think it’s about time?” and so forth. But that’s for a different day and a different post. Today I’ll keep my peace.