When you’re trying to have a baby, you go to the doctor — a lot.
This is especially true when you’re trying to have a baby through in vitro fertilization. Since our initial consultation late last year, I’ve lost count of how many times we’ve gone to the doctor’s office. And I haven’t even gone to all of them. Nicole has seen our doctor many more times than I have.
Nothing builds your stamina or resilience better than going through IVF. Nothing saps you of more emotion, either.
But we are nearly finished. After more than half a year of appointments and emotional meltdowns and setbacks and paying for medicine and tears and doubt and hope — the end is in sight.
And honestly, I’m relieved.
At different points on this journey, I’ve been over-the-moon excited, and I’ve been paralyzed with anxiety. At points, I’ve been angrier than I’ve ever been, shaking my fits at the heavens and wanting nothing more than to throw my head back and scream until my throat is raw.
Now, more than anything, I’m tired.
Tired of the seemingly never-ending process. Tired of people’s incessant cheeriness about it all. Tired of the doubt. Tired of the restlessness. Tired of living in this place of constant uncertainty. Tired of the constant strain on my emotional state. Tired of the anger.
I am tired of feeling like this whole process, this trying to have a baby, has me stuck.
I hate feeling stuck.
But we are nearly finished.
The implantation process is scheduled for later this month. Then 10 days after that, Nicole will go in for a pregnancy test and we will finally — finally — have an answer. One way or the other.
At this point, I’m not really sure what answer I’m hoping for. Somedays I lean one way. The next day, I lean the other.
Whether the end result is a baby or not, at this point I’m just ready for this emotionally draining process to be over.
I’m just ready for an answer — one way or the other.