Sunday, May 18, 2008

Even so, I'll still keep wondering

At my six-week appointment, my doctor asked the usual question about birth control. And I gave him the usual IF answer of, "well, we thought we'd go ahead and not give a bunch of money to Dr. S and shoot up a whole bunch of times and mix our gametes in a dish..." He, of course, had to remind me that it can and does happen that people get "lucky" after an IVF pregnancy. I scoffed at him (and secretly hoped he would, in like two years, prove me wrong.)

Don't worry, I'm not a blogging miracle and this is not that post.

***

I've been one of the lucky ones for whom breastfeeding acts as a natural show-stopper. Yay me! Birdie will be six months old next week (yeah, I can't believe it either) and it looks like my luck has just now run out. Birdie does not sleep through the night (we still get up to eat 1-2x) and she has eaten solid foods only sporadically. I guess it was just our time.

There's a part of me that's relieved. I don't know why. I didn't want my "fertility" back. Not yet, at least. I don't want to deal with the people who assume I'm "cured" because I had a baby. I don't want to wonder about #2. I told P months ago, as he was insisting that Birdie was going to be an only (knee-jerk reaction to seeing the trauma his wife has gone through over the last five years and not an actual decision on family size, mind you) that if we didn't take measures to prevent, we ran the possibility of a spontaneous pregnancy. Even if I didn't believe it myself, I wanted to make sure he was clear on that fact.

He laughed at me.

I secretly hoped... well, I honestly don't know what I hoped.


I'm not sure who I am now. I'm not sure what I want. I'm pretty sure I don't want to use birth control. But then am I going to wonder each month? Will I pay attention to the details of my cycles? Will I be so consumed by caring for my baby that I won't think to do these things? I have no idea.

I'm sitting here typing this hunched forward because it feels better on my lower back. Ahhh, yes. My old friend. I do know that I hoped, however irrationally, that the endo was gone. I suspect I didn't luck out there.

***

Right now I'm listening to the sound of rain over the baby monitor and I hear a little girl squirming around in her crib.


In about five minutes this post will not be on my mind anymore because I'll be attempting to keep a baby from rolling over while I try to change her diaper. I'll forget to go to the bathroom because I'll be reading "Little Duck" again and P will walk in and the baby will swivel around to look at him and smile and I'll think how lovely and perfect things are right now. I got one miracle already. I'm happy.

6 comments:

carosgram said...

This is an issue my daughter has had to deal with also. I hope that you are able to just put the whole idea out of your mind, expect nothing and worry about nothing. There really is not reason to think about it. If by any miracle you do get pregnant it will become obvious sometime before delivery. If thinking and hoping and wishing and praying made it happen you would have 10 children by now. So just relax and don't worry. I continue to think of you and wish you every happiness.

Irish Girl said...

I dream of the day ... yet I also understand. You will know the right way for you. And that is the only way :)

(I swear every time I walk in The Room I can almost picture and hear ***our*** squirming baby and I kind of (totally) want to squeal :) How FUN!

Furrow said...

Ah, welcome back, old friend. Old worries. Old pain. Old hopes.

It's funny how pregnancy and an active baby do almost make us forget how hard it was to get to this point in the first place.

Last month I was 4 days late, but that was by my old body clock. Who knows what normal is now. Funny, though, I was fretting over having babies only 15 months apart. Yeah, right. As if.

Kate said...

I haven't been in a long time. Last time I peeked in on you, I think you were about to have Birdie. I'm glad to catch up and see how you're doing. I'm not local to you anymore, but think of you still, from time to time. Especially since I relocated to a town where we know no one.
Best to you & your family
Kate - formerly of infertile, not inferior.

Karen said...

I relate so much to this post... I may make my own similar post soon... I've actually had a post in draft that's very similar to this one!

Sarah said...

sucks that we can't be cured