Lately I’ve been feeling like the ball in a ping pong game. I’ve been vacillating between so many things: trust and self-reliance, optimism and pessimism, excitement and fear . . .
For the most part, I’m doing much (so much!) better today than I was 6 months ago. But since the school year started, bringing with it the renewal of my responsibilities in my Bible study and other activities, I’ve been having a difficult time making my schedule work. And I’m just so tired. I think this tiredness opens a door to let the peace I held so securely all summer just drift away. I know I can take it back: it’s been offered to me and I just need to re-acknowledge it. But I am too tired to reach out and grab it. Or that’s how I feel.
Instead of feeling secure and patient in our waiting, I’ve been starting to feel overwhelmed. I’m excited to start treatment–and eager to fast forward through to December/January when we’ll begin significant medical interventions. But I’m also okay with waiting, not wanting to have to do all the things I need to do between now and actually getting started. Things like finding a new doctor or getting our finances in order. And I don’t want to be caught up in all of it again and lose sight of today, of the crispness in the air right now or even enjoying dinner and my favorite TV shows–not to mention post-season Cardinals baseball!–with my dear and wonderful husband.
And then I find that I can’t even imagine myself pregnant. What will it be like? I used to picture a round belly growing under my shirt, but now when I try I just see me. I’ve begun to look forward to things other than parenting–to the possibility of seminary or even to writing more. I’ve entertained notions I never entertained, like being actually employed somewhere full-time as a teacher or even in an office and enjoying it. Like having a career. Stuff I never really thought about wanting. It’s weird. So weird.
And then I have complete opposite moments. Moments of denial. How is that still coming up? But yesterday I was sitting and thinking that maybe this whole IF thing was a dream. Or maybe it’s just temporary and I’m going to wake up tomorrow and get pregnant like a normal person from now on. Other moments spent daydreaming decorating a nursery, maybe for two.
And then pinching myself, reminding myself to be present, to be here and to do what God wants me to do today.
We got some disappointing news last week. DH’s company isn’t actually going to cover our infertility treatments. It’s okay. I mean, we are blessed to have savings that we can use. Praise God. We are so grateful that this doesn’t mean we aren’t able to move forward. But it is a disappointment. Apparently insurance premiums are going up 8 percent just to keep the coverage we already have and adding infertility would cost an additional 10 percent on top of that for DH’s company. When they ran the numbers they came to the conclusion that they couldn’t afford it. I was more worried, but DH–who has a better handle on our financial situation anyway–reassured me last night. We can afford our treatments. And it’s okay. And God already knew this would happen. But, well, like the other people in his office who probably could also benefit from IF coverage (if 1 in 8 couples are affected, I’m sure we’re not the only ones), I think I’d just prefer not to have been told we’d be receiving coverage only to find out we aren’t.
I made appointments on Monday for us to check out two different REs in Houston. We’ll meet with the first one this Monday. The second one isn’t until November–and I may cancel that if we like the first doctor. So, we’re making concrete steps.
And I’m mostly optimistic, mostly trusting, and mostly excited–but still feeling a bit tossed from one end of the table to the other.