I'm in the waiting room, waiting. Waiting to be blooded, to be wanded, to get on the treadmill once again.
I have never been more terrified.
I keep trying to talk myself out of it, but logic doesn't help. I have a child; this shouldn't be as scarey as it is.
But it is.
Everything is pretty much the same as you'd expect. It's far too early in the morning, and I'm surrounded by sleepy, sullen people (mostly women). No one's happy, no one's ever happy to be here. Why is that? (okay, I know why.) I just wish that this felt... different.
My life after I got what I wanted most - a baby
About Me
- Nica
- OTP Atlanta, Georgia, Atlanta, United States
- Hello there. I started blogging whilst trying to balance too much -- infertility, miscarriages, elder caregiving for a crazy (as in Alzheimer's) mother-in-law. And now that things have changed, I find myself mourning parts of my before-life. Welcome to the After Life
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3 comments:
I think even if you had 12 kids and were going for 13 that it wouldn't feel any differently.
The battle scars of infertility never leave...especially when you're back in the stirrups.
Good luck!
Thinking of you...
Oh, and I had lots of bad names to call your husband. In fact, I had to write and delete my own comment several times before I felt it was constructive enough to post! Glad it's going better. . .
I guess it never gets better. This time, though, you do have a living reminder of what you are striving for and how worth it the struggle can be.
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