Preparing for the Storm

Growing up in New England, the weatherman is a crucial part of our everyday life.  Throughout the different seasons we can have rain, wind, hail, sun, snow, ice and just about every other type of weather in one form or another. 

The weatherman is especially important when it comes to tracking snowstorms.  This past winter was mild, it only snowed once or twice and never stayed long.  BUT, the winter before, we were hit about five consecutive weekends in a row.  Each time, the snow just piled on top of the snow from the previous week.  No matter how much one prepared for it, you never could be ready, because you never knew "exactly" what the storm would bring.  I would imagine that is what it feels like to go through consecutive IVFs and/or FETs.  You never have time to breathe, you just have to keep shoveling and watching the piles grow bigger no matter how much time and energy you put into it, knowing if you stop now, you may never see the grass again.       

This is what I was thinking about on the way to work this morning.  P and I are trying to prepare for the storm.  I should get my period in the next week and then my meds. will arrive and then we will wait for cd 21 to begin the Lupron.  So, sometime next week, I will give up alcohol, cut out caffeine, give accupuncture a try, and make sure I continue on my daily walks with Sage.  I will do everything I can, without going to the extreme, to try and make this cycle successful.  Kind of like when you prepare for the snowstorm.  You go out and stock up on food, movies, shovels, and salt, and hope it's not that bad.  And occasionally, the weatherman goofs up, and nothing happens.  ABSOLUTELY NOTHING.  You look around thinking to yourself, I wasted all my time and energy preparing for something that was never going to happen.  I can't help but think that same way with this upcoming cycle.  I can do all of these "things" that people recommend give us the best chance, and end up with a negative, ABSOLUTELY NOTHING.  I am trying hard to believe that won't happen, but really, we are just taking a blind leap of faith, trusting the weatherman.  Hoping his prediction is right, that we aren't doing all this for nothing. 

We both had an extremely difficult night on Thursday.  There was nothing either of us could say to make the other feel better.  It's hitting us, both of us, the magnitude of what we are about to jump head first into.  People that have never been through this (including myself just a few years ago) threw around IVF like it was just another way to make a baby.  Everyone always knows someone who knows someone else that went through IVF and had a baby, yay, it must be easy!  What people don't know is the time you have to put in before you can even get to the point of IVF, the number of failed cycles, failed procedures, terrifying tests.  They don't know the endless amounts of drugs you put into your body without giving it a second thought, the agonizing number of years it can take, the number of losses, the amount of pain endured in the process. 

As the weekend was upon us we were better and then Sunday we got to spend time with my wonderful brother-in-law and sister-in-law and our two beautiful nieces.  They are so adorable and so much fun.  When I am with them I don't think about the fact that we don't have children.  I don't think about the fact that we will make such wonderful parents.  I am just filled with love for them.  But, then we got in the car and I felt like we were hit with a wave of sadness.  As the little ones looked out the window and waved good-bye with the words "I'll miss you," I almost couldn't breathe.  P must have been feeling the same way because neither one of us said anything the whole ride home.  There was this heaviness in the air.  We have so much love to give and only Sage to give it to.

After starting this post and reading and then re-reading it, I realized I was missing something, something that I will have to remind myself to think about when the time comes.  Often times in the middle of a snowstorm P and I will sit on the couch together and watch the snow fall.  It is so beautiful that we typically don't say anything, just sit together in silence, wrapped up in a blanket, in awe of what surrounds us.  It is absolutely one of my favorite moments each year.  I hope that when we are wrapped up in our own storm I can remember to stop for a moment and remind myself of the beauty that may reveal itself as the storm subsides.  After all, the snow doesn't last forever, eventually it melts away, and the green grass reappears...