Sunday, February 17, 2008

the day before tomorrow

There was so much to say the last time I approached an IVF cycle. This time around, I guess I reckon I've said it all before in my archives, circa January to April 2005. That stuff is way more entertaining than what it is now as with all the creative mothering going on for the past two years, any creative genius *coughcough* I once had has now been fully exchanged for what appears to be old chewing gum and sawdust.

The last time I was looking down the barrel of a Long Stimulation Regime there were so many feelings, while this time there only appears to be doing. I've done the work up, I've done the crazies, I'll be doing more blood tests, then I'll be doing the thing that replaces the wahoo, hanky panky stuff that usually leads to the baby making, then I'll be doing that weird progesterone thing, followed shortly by doing the pregnancy test thing which, all being well, will be followed by doing the whole not being able to touch my toes anymore thing all over again.

The other day's gasping inability to breathe made me assume it was terror depleting me of rational thought and oxygen, but I don't think I actually am terrified. Or even scared. That being said, it is safe to say I'm concerned about the process, but the outcome? May I'm splitting hairs, but I have concerns, but I'm not concerned about what happens once the whole shebang is past its Pee On A Stick phase.

The process is pretty fucking scary, y'all, even with the support of a partner and possibly your mother. People go nuts doing this, even if only for a discreet hormone induced period of time, and here I am, doing it not only alone but while also being the only support system Daniel knows.

I'm pretty scared about that because irrational thoughts and feelings are typical for any hormone shift, and this proposed hormone shift promises to be HUGE, not typical, and typically I get crabby and short tempered, and then I get hopeless and depressed, and then I get my period and I have a week of The Normal and then it all starts again. Which is what will happen in the following weeks but on a BIG scale. Kind of like throwing back a double espresso when what you're used to is a weak decaf, and while I'd like to think I'll be able to keep the crazy hidden, I'm also not delusional enough to assume I'm going to be able to cram that amount of crazy down for anyone.

Let's assume though, that I'm not incarcerated under suspicion of being responsible for the freshly buried bodies in the back yard over the next few weeks. Given my assumed liberty and associated freedom to birth another child outside of the Australian prison system, I have no qualms about my ability to cope with a change in our family stasis. Coping will happen, as it did with Daniel. My experience of that pregnancy followed (obviously, duh) by his arrival taught me that as much as we worry about what is to be, when it is, we do okay.

Or even better than.

Which is how I feel about the life we're leading now. Which is why I'm confident that this mission is a good thing.

I'm not at all blase about the impact another child will have on our lives though, regardless of how I sound. I do worry about Daniel's world being shat upon by the arrival of a squalling, screaming competitor to my undivided attention. When I think about giving up what we have now, the absolute privilege of being each others' one and only, the special bond an only child shares with its unpartnered mother, a lump comes to my throat. Those things are short term bonuses in a long term life, so shouldn't cloud any vision of the potential and probable long term gains of disrupting this personal nirvana.

Daniel stands to gain one of the best friends he could ever have. Granted, it's likely the road to that idyllic partnership will be paved with rivalry, jealousy and a multitude of hits, kicks, whacks, and punches, but it may also be these very things forging their relationship and strengthening their bond.

Additionally, being the only child of a sole parent is a bigass responsibility, especially so when that parent (me!) has little or no extended family support (the apparently invisible clan of other bees), and while there are many reasons why I'd like another child, Daniel's future security is a big motivating factor now.

I want him to have someone else besides me in his life, and I REALLY don't want him to feel that all I have is him.

The long term goal is a second for Daniel, and a side kick for each other. My long term goal is to relieve myself of any future regrets. Another child accompanying that specific goal will mean I've achieved even more than I could have ever hoped for.

Which is why I'm doing this for me. Because I rue so much of my life and because I can't imagine not at least trying for some of what I'd thought I'd have. I seem to be powered by regret so I know that in as short a time as a year, I'd be steeping in even more of it for not grabbing this time dependent opportunity with both hands and with my legs in the air.

I don't want any more regrets.

Because that's what the other day's meltdown was all about.

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