I just realized it's been, umm, almost two years since I've had a vaginal ultrasound. Not that I've ever looked forward to this, but I'm really not looking forward to this. Not just the discomfort, the digging for lefty, but the emotional aspect is... well... heavier than I remember. Those little rooms are filled with years of emotional trauma; let downs, failure, and not yet's. I've failed to respond, and failed to respond, and failed. I've had hopes risen, then crashed as they gave way to jaded apathy.
Yes, good things happened in there. I had so many ripe follicles the last time, we got one perfect baby last time, and depsite coming in prepared to hear "I'm sorry," we came back and heard his heart beat over and over. Some of the best moments of our lives happened in those little rooms!
And yet, that doesn't erase two years of bad news, heart break, and dejection.
What will tomorrow bring?
I don't know. Another set back? The first step back onto the path to treatments? Emotionally I don't know what to make of this place I'm in. I'm not sure how I feel. I'm not excited. I'm not overly pessimistic. I'm not optimistic either though. I'm not lamenting that this is what it's came to. I'm... I don't know... accepting?
I feel really jaded. I wish that infertility didn't exist, but it does. I don't see the point in arguing about the fairness in the world anymore. I don't see the point in wondering "why me" or "why us?" It didn't make a lick of difference last time. This is just how our world moves. This is how babies are made (and sometimes unmade) in the world we've came to know.
Sometimes I still feel the bitterness rise up, don't get me wrong. I am a very bitter person in some regards. I'm not immune to jealousy, to hating that I'll never have that pregnancy experience that others get. Having a baby will never be a natural part of my life- it will never come without medication, without a lot of prep-work, and great expense. Most importantly- it will never come with a guarantee. I'll never have that illusion.
This time around I do have something I didn't have the first time- the knowledge that it's possible. I know that's no guarantee, no one could ever give me that, but I've been clinging to it. I keep trying to loosen my grip on it, but my mind won't let it go.
I survived this, once.
It's a false hope, but it may very well be the only one I have.