While Hopelessly and I were away recently we had such an amazing time and really spoke about our infertility on a new level. Not that we haven’t already talked and Talked and TALKED about it no end. But there, on holiday, relaxed we talked about the ultimate decision on the terrible IF journey.
We talked about how long we would want to carry on for. Would we want to keep going at all costs. What are we willing to do, how far are we willing to push it and subject ourselves and our marriage to this heart ache. What are our boundaries? How long do we keep up the injections. If this next test comes back with no sperm do we do another three months. The doc said a year, in other words if this test comes back zero, only one more three month wait before our year of jabs is up! But our research has said up to two years, so do we keep going? And for how long, I mean once you’ve been injecting for a year why not another three months and another three months and… And then there is the fact that Dr S said “it will work” we just have to give it time.
We talked about whether we are still up for going the donor route and while Hopelessly said that we cross that bridge when we get there he would still rather have a child that was biologically mine, than skip the step and go straight to adoption. Isn’t he the very best in the whole world?
And I know that on this journey you simply never know what the boundary is until it’s behind you. I keep thinking back to the day Hopelessly and I agreed to really start “trying”. He said he was up for going onto testosterone, but not up for tests. Within two months he had had his first SA! The day he suggested that we should go the donor route, I broke down and said ‘no way, I couldn’t carry another man’s child’, within a couple of weeks we were looking at donor profiles. So I don’t know how long we will fight this fight really.
But we did agree that we don’t want to loose the next ten years of our lives to this sadness. This hope and heartbreak. And I certainly DO NOT want to spend the next ten years of my life a human rollercoaster. Crying for no particular reason at the drop of a hat. I don’t want to be 60-something at my children’s 21st birthdays.
We came to the conclusion that if we made up our minds to live child free we would get over it, we would eventually come to terms with it and we would still have a happy life together. And it is true. And at the time I found such peace in the conversation.
BUT I’M NOT THERE YET!
I just don’t want to have to face that choice. I don’t want to give up on this dream. I want our baby, I want to see that netball (or basketball) ring on our back wall in the garden, I want to see that kiddie roller-skating around the washing line. I want to worry about the fire guard being strong enough so my munchkin doesn’t burn him/herself. I want to see the walking ring dashing around our lounge. I want to stand in the spare-room/nursery in the semi-dark rocking my tiny child back to sleep. I want to get a net to cover our pool so our little ones are safe. I want to go to Kindermusic classes and make my baby watersafe. I want to read stories and sign nursery rhymes. Oh the list goes on and on. Blah Blah Blah Blah!