This has been a year of hope and possibility. Of tears and disappointment. Of uncertainty and waiting. Of medications and doctor’s visits. Of dreams dashed and painstaking realities settling in.
I know not what else to say about our journey to make a child. It has consumed this past year unlike anything else in our relationship and married life. It has laid bare truths and dreams that, while known, were never before plumbed to their true depths. It has drained us of tears, triggered anger and bitterness, and raised far more questions than answers about the next chapter of our life and where we go from here.
It has become extremely difficult to be around children, or hear about friends or family members or loved ones who become pregnant or gush about their offspring. It has become even more arduous to listen to the well-meaning platitudes and words of family and friends.
We have grown weary of waiting. Waiting for the next appointment. Waiting for the next medication. Waiting for the next procedure, the next step, the results, the phone call. We have grown weary of waiting for the answer to the question: Will we have a child of our own?
And that answer remains elusive, like an itch on your back you can’t quite reach. An answer that may or may not be what we hope it to be. An answer that, as far as I am concerned, has taken far longer than necessary to arrive.
Still, I know the answer we seek will come. Soon. This week we prepare for our second embryo transfer and all the hope and uncertainty that entails.
When the answer does come, we will be ready to celebrate or mourn as necessary.
This has been a year of hope and possibility. Of uncertainty and waiting. And so it remains, until our answer comes.