The Unspoken

Last night, I was chatting with my oldest childhood friend, Chelsea. She has known me the longest out of all of my friends, going on 23 years now, and has often times been a voice of reason and insight in my life. She has always been quick to listen and slow to give advice; a true friend. She was checking in and asking how I was feeling. I think initially, she may have meant physically, but quickly into our conversation, I found myself pouring out the emotions I am currently experiencing...thoughts that I hadn't verbalized to anyone through this process yet.

First of all, IVF patients don't get the romance of conceiving a child naturally. We have already tried and tried on our own. Not just trying - I mean, trying. Charting ovulation. Obsessively. With a calendar. With a phone app. With a thermometer. With an ovulation predictor kit that costs approximately $5 a pee stick. With hope and a prayer. For months. Each month of trying, we experienced disappointment after disappointment. This disappointment is what eventually leads us down a path that winds up with us sitting in a fertility clinic learning about our "options." We don't wake up one day and say, "Hey, you know what would be really fun? Let's put our bodies through hell and our emotions on a roller coaster so a doctor can make our baby in a petri dish! Oh, and it only costs $12,000 a round with no guarantees! Sign us up!" No. Instead, there is already a significant amount of sadness and grief that has preceeded this decision and journey.

The IVF process is unnatural. If you lay out the simple facts, it sounds like a sci-fi movie...

They pump you full of drugs by daily injections.
They harvest your eggs.
They take sperm and inject it into your eggs.
They wait to see if cells start multiplying.
Then they select the best looking embryo and put it back into your body, hoping it implants and you have a baby in 40 weeks.

Totally sci-fi, right? Haha. SO romantic.

IVF is so clinical, so methodical, so calculated, so, well...medical. I'm struggling with a disconnect. It doesn't feel real. Chelsea pointed out that it's my coping mechanism - to protect myself from the emotional whiplash if this round fails. That maybe my emotions will just be a little delayed to what my body is doing. And that's ok. She's right. I haven't let myself really feel much of anything other than relief each time we move on to the next step. I've been too analytical about this process...waiting for the facts to surface each step of the way, only to move on to the next step and wait for the facts again. It will work or it won't. I've only cried once this entire process and it lasted maybe 15 seconds. I have put up a wall. I'd rather feel nothing until it's positive, than allow myself to feel now with the potential for yet another disappointment. Perhaps I'm trying to be too strong. She encouraged me to give myself some grace, emotionally. She reminded me this is not a common journey and that "comparison is the thief of joy" and I need to let God bless us because he has a plan and will use this journey no matter what. I needed those words. I will try to allow myself the joy of this journey too, instead of just bracing for the facts. I mean really - I already have a picture of her!! This process is a miracle! I need to revel in that and savor the unknown while it is just that. Wednesday will be here soon enough.

Thank you, Chelsea for your words. Love you, friend.