So often when I come here to share my thoughts, emotions, or reflections from the IF roller coaster it is when I am struggling to see the screen through the tears and know that The Man doesn’t need more of my “stuff” dumped onto his shoulders. As I was driving the other day, I couldn’t help but take note of how “normal” I was feeling, how not crazed and insane by sorrow and sadness and how maybe it would be nice to share some of that here.
I’m sure this feeling will be short lived, the BB will make its appearance in the next day or so and then a week after that CD1 will arrive. But for today, for these few days each cycle the hope creeps in and I start thinking about things like:
• I probably would need to test while I’m out of town next week, what a cool surprise for The Man that would be. Heck, how cool would it be to just actually get to POAS?!?! Unless it’s negative .
• Oh, and I could surprise my dad during our trip next Saturday with good news.
• And oh, would I blog about it right away or wait a while? Probably right away. But not until we told The Man’s parents since finding out about a grandchild on your DIL’s blog is probably not how they would like things to go.
• But what about all of my friends who still wait? How I hate the thought of hurting them and causing them more pain on this already painful enough journey.
• Maybe I just won’t tell anyone for a while, that way no one gets hurt? Right? Maybe not?
• Hmm, happier things, I’d finally get to turn the spare room into a nursery, I bet there are some great New Year’s sales.
• And wait! If this were “the” month, I’d never have to schedule surgery with Dr. S. (yes, yes, I know you want more details on that appointment, patience ;), I’m living in the land of that appointment won’t matter).
• OMG! What if I’m pregnant? I’m not ready to be a mother! What makes me think I can be a good mother! Oh no! I’ll be a horrible parent. *enter horrible feelings of guilt here*
• Why am I getting my hopes up? Why would anything have changed this month?
• But maybe, just maybe…
And so goes the car up the track of hope. Undoubtedly it will fall, but even as I type that, in these days of the ride up, it’s hard to believe that I am the same person who writes of anger and pain. It’s hard to believe that giving up is ever even a faint, distant option. It is these days, of blissful ignorance and hope that are gifts of grace from God; that are the reason we keep trying again, that remind me of what God is calling me toward.
In the days that come, these feelings will feel as far away as the anger and pain do now, but without these days there would be no bearing the others at all.