Tomorrow's just on the horizon. I can see it creeping in slowly...yet it got here so quickly.
Tomorrow involves another trip to VA IVF. To the 3rd floor of that building. To the place where all my hope is always at an all-time high, yet nothing positive ever seems to stick around for long.
It will be our 6th time there for an embryo transfer,
though I went four times before that for stuff related to our IUIs.
I can't help but feel like we should get some sort of an award for all the times we keep getting knocked down but keep showing back up.
Then again, I don't believe in participation trophies.
Maybe a frequent visitor punch card though.
Punch your card for five visits, get the sixth free.
Wouldn't that be lovely.
Tomorrow will be so different, yet exactly the same in many ways.
Different mainly because the embryo won't be transferred to me and my hostile womb, but to our surrogate.
Different because I won't be the one putting on the gown or the free no-skid socks.
Different because for once I'll finally be able to look into the incubator to see the embryo pre-transfer.
Different because I'll actually miss having the opportunity to take a valium to take the edge off the weightiness of the day.
And yet, the same hope will be there.
The hope for the possibility of what MAY be.
The same wonder and awe of technology and science and God being present in exactly the same moment.
The same feeling of pride I have in our marriage. For surviving yet another year...another hurdle of this beautifully ugly journey of infertility.
The same stoic looks of bravery on our faces while inside we silently wonder just how much more we can endure.
The same awareness of all the amazing things we could be doing with our thousands of dollars, yet knowing that becoming parents is priceless.
The same prayers that we won't ever have to go back again, yet the knowledge that if we do, we'll be okay.
