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?