Long time, no post. I apologize for having dropped off the face of the earth for a while there. I haven’t been reading, or writing, or even tweeting much. I’m not sure why it’s been impossible to keep up with things, I think the move really wiped my energy for a while. I literally just found my computer mouse after the move tonight (we’ve been here 2.5 months!). We love our new place and it was so worth it.
My sweet baby girl is ONE. She is amazing, beautiful and a complete handful these days. She’s into everything, climbing on everything, and suddenly very opinionated. Leopold is almost 3.5.
Suddenly I’ve been parenting longer than I battled (primary) infertility, and with this time passing and two successful pregnancies, something shifted inside. I certainly haven’t forgotten what I’ve been through to get to this point, but that pain has certainly faded significantly. Perhaps that’s just under the incessant questioning of my three year old while chasing my 1 year old. But, for the most part, I don’t feel bitter any more, pregnancy announcements don’t upset me. I feel whole and healed as much as I could be, I think.
Which leads me to the point of this post – the prospect of having a third child. That door that’s been left open, the question on every stranger’s mind these days “so are you done? Or will you have more kids?” A thought that seemed utterly impossible, even laughable for so long. (It is still a bit weird that I realize we look like a fertile family to most – two kids, 2 years 5 months a part. ) I feel incapable of daring to dream of it coming a reality. Even thinking about it seems greedy and unfair, and so I know that the IF emotional baggage is actually deep-rooted and alive and well.
We still have our one frozen embryo. We do plan to transfer it, probably in 2015. We toyed with the idea of transferring it before the end of 2014, but decided there was no reason to rush it. I’ve had my cycle back for 5 months now, though I’m still breastfeeding, and we’re doing nothing to prevent. Every month when my period shows up, I’m not devastated or crying – I just think, huh. Yep. still infertile. Ah, well, not ready anyway. And when I see signs of fertility it’s strange not to mark them down on the calendar, or force sex. It’s just…whatever happens.
It all feels fine right now and I’m scared to rock the boat. I’m scared to transfer that one embryo we have because I’m afraid that if it fails it will send me down the rabbit hole. I’m afraid I’ll suddenly want to do a fresh IVF cycle, which was challenging enough with one child, I don’t know how I’d swing it with two in between preschool pick-ups and drop offs, and two kids to wrangle. don’t want to go through it all again and right now, at this very moment, I am so incredibly happy with the family we have and I don’t feel that anything is missing. We are happy. We are so incredibly lucky. But I can’t NOT transfer that beautiful blast. I need to do it. We will do it, I’m just scared of going through it all again. I’m scared of it not taking, of miscarriage, ectopic, an unhealthy pregnancy.
There’s this piece of me that wants to just walk away from this family-building on a high note. We did IVF, it worked, Kate was born. A successful cycle! A beautiful birth. The end. I’m afraid to rock the boat. Though I know eventually I will get up the courage to take this step, but it is a mind trip, having that embryo and even just not not trying, that open door, that question mark of will there be more? Should I get rid of the baby swing, car seat, bouncer, etc? We would love more kids, but will it happen? I can’t even dare to hope. But, we would like another child. we would be thrilled with another baby.
Only time will tell and somehow I’ll have to find a good frame of mind to go into an FET cycle. My last go at fertility treatments, ever. I can do it. I will do it. and it will be ok, whatever happens.