A Tale of Waiting

I feel that this entire year has been a trial; a trial of how patient I can be.

I have patiently endured the waves of grief that move through my body and mind.   I remind myself that the crying and sadness do come to a temporary end.  Understanding that this is a lifestyle now, I am resolved to keep moving with Hope.  Which brings me to: baby-making.

Easter Sunday
Looking all hopeful over Easter 🙂

After a couple’s interview, blood work, a urine analysis, an HSG, a sperm sample and more blood work, our fertility specialist informed me that I was not immune to Varicella. (That’s chickenpox, for us non-medical folks.)  I was mildly listening when she told me this, as I didn’t think it was that important.

Do I get a shot or something? I asked.

Yes, you actually get two shots, one month apart.  After eight-ten weeks, then you can try for a baby, she said.

That’s when I listened.  Ten weeks?  That’s two and a half baby-trying cycles….uuuhhhhhhggggg.  I left wanting to cry.  I left wanting to scream.  I wanted to slam all the waiting room chairs right through those stupid windows to nowhere!  If this inoculation was so important, then why didn’t someone let me know oh, I don’t know, maybe BACK IN DECEMBER, when I had the miscarriage?  Then, this could all have been behind me.

I was so frustrated.  I wanted to start NOW.

varicella caution

After a day of mulling this information over, I sought a second opinion from my General. I waited for the email, which arrived two days, later.   She agreed with the specialist and said that it was safest to take care of the vaccines first, then try to conceive, second.  I got the first shot that same day.  I waited one month; got the second shot.

I’m still waiting.  I either have 3 or 5 weeks left of waiting.  I don’t know which. Sometimes I lay on the living room floor and just stare.  Waiting.  Not as cute as this little kitten girl, but something like it…

hot brown kitty
Olive waiting, too…

What exactly am I supposed to be learning, here?  The fact that I turn 39 years old in August is something I’m acutely aware of.  It’s May, for heavens sakes.  I feel minutes, hours, days moving silently past me; like the fast walkers in Times Square, the time doesn’t seem to mind I’m in its presence.  Is this experience making me grow?  Is this another test of motherhood?

I shout angrily at no-one:  Haven’t I already been tested enough?! Haven’t I sacrificed plenty??  

Many, many loud questions.

I still have Hope, though.  I am eeking closer to my goal of intentionally expanding our family.  This reminds me of that 80’s poster with the kitten dangling from the tree and the caption underneath urging us all to “Hang in There”.  Okay…that is kind of funny.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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