Today is Day 1. I have finished my birth control. I started an oral steroid medication (dexamethasone) this morning and we have our ‘Baseline Appointment’ tomorrow (blood work and ultrasound) before we get the ‘go ahead’ to begin my ‘Stim’ injections to grow my eggs. I am actually sitting here typing and sipping my decaf coffee and I feel paralyzed. Stuck to the chair. I’m supposed to be heading to my last yoga class before this all begins. I can’t practice my yoga while I’m ‘Stimming’ and I should be walking to my car and savoring this class because it will be weeks before I can do it again. And yet, I am stuck. I am weighted by my fears and excitement about IVF beginning. I cannot seem to move. I know I should. I should get up and make the choice to go move my body. I should. And yet, here I stay. My shoulders actually feel as if boulders are resting upon them and I keep moving my arms hoping to release the discomfort, but it stays. I stay. I’m surrounded by complete strangers in this coffee shop and I choke back tears. And I wonder if anyone can tell. I wonder if anyone else in the room is choking back tears at this same moment in time.
I am scared. I am excited. I am mostly scared. I’m grateful to be starting this. Grateful for the hope it brings that this may actually work. I may become pregnant this year. I’m terrified of the pain, emotional and physical. I am furious that I am sitting here typing this. After everything we’ve been through and the many times I’ve made peace with infertility and requiring extra medical help to conceive this child…I am pissed as hell in this moment that this is my reality. I’m unsure about my strength. And not in a can-i-do-this kind of way. I don’t know how gracefully I will make it through. I don’t know if I will be a complete mess. I don’t know how this will impact my daughter, my husband, my family, my friendships. I don’t know if this is complete selfishness and if it will be worth the pain I impose on myself and others. I just don’t know.
Sadness sits with me and threatens to stay too long. As she always does when I get a good look at the mountain in front of me. I’ve seen this mountain coming. I signed up for the climb, I suppose. At this moment, I’m not confident about why. The guilt that’s become a familiar companion joins my sadness. These two are close friends. Because I have a healthy, happy daughter and a wonderful husband, I am not allowed to be sad without the guilt reminding me of what I already possess in this life that is so good. I despise these competing voices and their hurtful duet. Unfortunately, they don’t seem to be comfortable with a solo very often.
I know I have to feel all of this before it will pass. I know this. It will pass. Joy will return. Excitement will overpower fear. And the duet of sadness-guilt will always return. I cannot stop them. There’s not much I have control over, but I can sit here and feel all this. I can be here. I can choose to really be here.
*I am grateful for this time I have to myself while my daughter is in preschool. It allows me the ability to be present in my life and to take care of myself.