We pick ourselves up, dust off our knees, clean the scrapes on our palms. It isn’t the first time we’ve fallen. It won’t be the last. The scar tissue gets thicker each time, but there are still places that are tender and raw. The hurt breaks through when your guard is down.
Nevertheless, we still keep moving, hopefully forward. We struggle not to dwell on the negatives. We let ourselves have a weekend of coffee in bookstores; watching three four baby bunnies explore their world and discover the front yard; playing video games until fingers are numb; burgers and beer; and only a tiny hint of using the gym as punishment for a body that doesn’t do what it is supposed to (and yes, I know that’s probably not the best attitude. At least I’m aware of it and move to lower impact things).
There will be a consultation. We’ll ask, this time, if we are possibly wasting precious time with the frozen embryos and should try to figure out how to manage another fresh cycle. We’ve revisited the risk/benefit ratio of transferring more than one embryo. It’s sort of a step back, but sometimes that’s part of moving forward…not running as fast as you can to get away from the past, but stopping to check the map and making sure you’re still on the marked trail.
It’s a rainy, rainy week in North Texas. It’s a good time for spring cleaning; Time to get rid of the cobwebs and dust and start fresh and clear. Metaphorically and literally.
And, maybe, if you keep telling yourself that you start to believe a little bit of it. It’s all just mind over matter, right?
The parts that rest on our shoulders, the decisions of fresh or frozen, one or two embryos, are so difficult. Risks just don’t translate the same after suffering such a tragic loss. I think the way you’re moving forward is all you can do, and I’m proud of you.
What a beautiful and wistful post. I just wanted you to know I’m thinking about you. Abiding.
I’m so sorry these questions need to be asked and there are more decisions to be made. I so know those weekend – burgers, beer, video games. Small consolations, but they help. A little. At least they do for us. Wishing you well as you clear out the cobwebs and take more steps forward.
Ditto M. Sorry you even need to make these decisions, and go through the mental gymnastics of feeling spring, appropriately. Thinking of you.
I’m so sorry. I don’t have words to say. I just wish you didn’t have to be in this place.
You write so beautifully. And my heart aches for you xxx
…. moving on with you…quietly but soundly…ever supportive and proud of your insight, wisdom and continued grace in living your life in the face of it…
wishing you peace and sending love…
You are truly an inspiring person! You are both in my prayers!
I saw this post earlier this week but couldn’t come up with the words to tell you how much I loved it. Saw it in Mel’s Friday roundup & had to come back & admire it all over again. : )
I am so sorry you are even having to consider these questions. Hoping your have a smooth journey in you future treatments.
Moving on, whatever the direction you go, is very hard.
I hope 2010 brings you better news.