This weekend I went to a friend's bachelorette party, which started with a late lunch at a bar/restaurant at 2pm and then continued with a scavenger hunt around the mall. The drunkest person (dare I say drunk at all? the person who had the most drinks) had 2 strawberry something or other drinks. It was a lot of fun getting to visit with my friends because we hardly see each other these days! Sheesh!
Anyway, we all had to stop and window shop at the stores that sell cute baby stuff (and I pointed out that our age was showing when we did so, on several occasions, including Baby Gap). And it was the kid's birthday (that I got up early to have a birthday breakfast to celebrate) and so it was extra much on my mind: more babies...
I've been tiptoeing around it, but it is time for honesty. And really, who is reading this blog but me anyway, right? We've actually been hoping for baby #2 for the last 18 months now and are 2 miscarriages in to the waiting game. It stinks. I don't like waiting and being taught patience and to take good care of myself in this manner is hard. It's just painful to see folk getting pregnant immediately and it just isn't so simple for us.
So far we know that I have PCOS and my doctor decided we'll try some drugs to treat it if I'm not pregnant within 6 months of my last visit (which was January, so half over and presumably no dice). By "drugs" I mean ones that deal with the PCOS and not necessarily Clomid just yet (and we haven't looked at the other half in the equation yet, although there's a likelihood of some problems there based on childhood illness).
Since losing potential baby #2 (since yes, I don't think that the embryo we lost was a baby yet, but it's still sad and a struggle and I reserve the right to change my opinion on the matter at any time) I waver between getting rid of everything baby that we've saved to this point and getting it all out to cry over before putting it away more properly. It isn't something that I've shared with anyone really, outside of a few close friends. It's my grief (our grief) and I don't want to talk about it with everyone because so many people are so heartless and say stuff that just makes me think badly of them (when I know it's probably the grief talking, or that they just don't know what to say and stumble into something insensitive).
Today the kid's daycare provider had her 3rd child. Her oldest is the kid's age, the middle one the age our second pregnancy (first miscarriage) would have been, and I would have had my anatomy ultrasound this week. I'm not sure there are words for the complexity of it all.
But I live in hope anyway. Today may be hard, tomorrow may be worse, but there will be a good day eventually. Even if we don't get another biological kid, we will have more children through adoption. Maybe the kid will appreciate sibling(s) more if she has more time to ask for one. In my magical free time I'm reading the Bible from the start and am noticing that a great many women in the old testament are infertile. I'm glad to read that Sarah laughed when she heard that she'd conceive, and I hope she didn't laugh bitterly but out of joy at the idea of a dream finally fulfilled in her old age. Isn't that a funny thought, getting something you always wanted long after you thought it was possible? Like I always wanted to go to Disney World as a kid and finally went for a conference in college. Hearing that I got to go made me laugh, to have that long-time dream come true in such a surprising way.
I hope because I breathe (someone else said that first, not sure whom).