So this is it. The end of the last cycle before we go back to the consultant.
When we saw him in November, he was full of confidence that we would get pregnant naturally, within 6 months (we’d already been trying for about 10 months at that point). “Make an appointment for May, but I won’t see you again!” These were his parting words.
We both took a lot of hope from his confidence in our reproductive ability, but I retained a nagging doubt that things aren’t right in my body. (It looks as though I only have one functioning ovary, and that only functions 2 out of every 3 cycles. Not to mention worries about hormonal balance.)
Over time, I have found ways to manage my anxieties and at the moment I’m keeping those demons at bay. One ovary should be enough! In a few, long days we’ll find out if we have had success this time. If not, it’s back to the consultant to ask for a helping hand.
In the meantime, more friends are pregnant, several with their second. It never gets easier to hear. Friends who know our circumstances have become more careful about how and when they tell me their news. I’m glad for their thoughtfulness, but it doesn’t change the sharp disappointment that it isn’t us, yet. And in any case, I would be devastated if they stopped sharing with me. We’re on this journey together, my friends and I, and while it is tough, I don’t want to miss seeing their families blossom.
This weekend is a case in point. We are spending it with various friends, their bumps, and their children. It won’t be easy. I’ll be all smiles while I’m with them and my husband will pick up the pieces when we go home. But I’ll also get all the cuddles I can, from big people and small people.
Our turn will come.