Next week marks the beginning of a new phase in my and Super Man's journey to have a second baby together: I'll be seeing a fertility specialist on Tuesday afternoon.
As you might expect, I'm a jumble of emotions right now as next Tuesday draws near.
On the one hand, I'm obviously extremely excited, hopeful and optimistic: These are the folks who have worked miracles for many others in our position. They know what to check for and what to do if they find fertility problems. Up to this point, all our tests have come back normal, so we don't technically have a specific fertility problem that they know of, but clearly SOMETHING is not right somewhere in the mix because I'm not pregnant! I want to put total faith in this doctor, and believe that he will give us another little miracle. I do. (I do.)
On the other hand, however... I'm scared. I'm scared that since these ARE the experts, and they WILL be doing more tests, they will find the thing that's not working right that will explain all of this. And I'm afraid that it won't be something good. Or fixable. In other words, I fear the worst.
It's like we've come to a fork in the road and while either path we wind up on will lead us to an end of the road, one of those ends is NOT the one we want to come to. That's the one where we have no more choices, no more options, where this decision will be made for us. The one that means our family is staying the size it's at right now. Only I want to be on the path that takes us to the GOOD end, the end that results in me conceiving and giving birth to another healthy and wonderful baby in the near future.
It's hard to think about that. And yet, there's a part of me that has grown weary of the giant question mark hanging over our lives. I've lived with that question mark for the better part of four years now, and I know I can't bear it much longer. I'm at the point now where I want answers. I need them.
Even if the news is not what I want to hear, I need to hear it so I can close this chapter of my life and move forward once and for all. I'm under no illusion that it will be an easy thing to do, but do it I will if that's the only option left.
But I hope it doesn't come to that. I catch myself day-dreaming about how this will all end, and in my day-dreams, the fertility doctor does a few more tests, says, "Oh, it's just _____, and we can do ____ to correct it, and you should be pregnant very soon!" And then I picture myself pregnant again, feeling a new little life move in my belly as my body grows round and lush, and I picture Super Boy welcoming a new baby into our family with excitement and love, and his excitement and pride at becoming a big brother. And then I picture myself happily packing up my maternity clothes for the last time and sending them on to the next mom-to-be.
Realistic? I can't say. But I can't help it. Without that hope, what's the point?
I beg you... please send prayers/good thoughts/baby dust this way that we will get the happy ending that we're hoping for. Please.
You know that I'll keep updating as I have more information. In the meantime, I thank you again, as always, for reading this blog and for sharing your comments, support and experiences. It means a lot to me to know that the things I write about here touch others in ways that are meaningful and useful, and I'm always grateful to find out that there are others out there who have walked in my shoes, whether it's with the fertility stuff, the blended family stuff, the wacky vomit-phobia, or anything else I've shared here. It's always easier to deal with something difficult when there's someone walking beside you. So THANK YOU!