Nothing new to report over here. Tomorrow is my third day of Estrace, and I'm just keeping on the routine of taking two tablets in the morning and two at night (which has been amazingly hard to remember!) until my monitoring sonogram next Monday, at which point, my protocol may change a bit.
Tomorrow I also start the Estrace vaginal inserts. I haven't done these before, but I realize a lot of women having gone through ART cycles have, so I know I can do it! And, honestly, I'm willing to do anything to get pregnant! I think I've already proven that, though, haven't I? :)
I don't have any plans this weekend, other than enjoying time with Aaron and Ella. I love weekends where the only plans made are those of no plans!
Aaron is trying to keep me level (or, in other words...sane!). He's trying to read my emotions and keep me relaxed and happy. He, of all people, knows me so well and knows the roller coaster I'm on (up and down and up and down...).
(Photo courtesy of Google Images).
I overheard Aaron praying out loud (with the intention for me to hear) for God to help me remember that he's on this roller coaster, too. That I'm not alone. He makes me smile with his discreetly obvious efforts to get through to me. :)
And really, sometimes I forget that he wants this baby just as bad as me. Sometimes I forget that he's walking side-by-side with me on this journey.
And, when I remember that he's right there with me, I feel so much better. A weight is literally lifted off my shoulders and I feel release.
Aaron really helped me earlier this week as I was battling emotions. I want people to understand the pain I'm feeling, but yet, I feel powerless to gaining that understanding.
Aaron put it best...
He said that when a person goes overseas to fight in a war for a couple years and returns to the life waiting for him, there are expectations for him to crawl right back into where he left off. However, despite that the life he left two years back hasn't changed, his perception of life has. Two years at war took a hold of his heart and changed him.
He's a different person, whether the family and friends he returns home to can truly understand it. They can sympathize and quite possibly empathize with this change, but grasping a complete understanding of the new man may be near impossible.
That is how I feel an infertile woman is. Even though it's not an overseas war she is fighting, it is still an inner battle. And there is absolutely no way a woman can go through a couple years of infertility without being changed in some way. And this change is one that might not come with understanding from people that cannot truly relate.
I know the person I am today is not the person I was 2-1/2 years ago. The battle I've been fighting - the tears, the screams, the pain, the sadness - they have changed me into, quite possibly, someone who cannot fully be understood and related to. I'm still the same person, but infertility has made some deep changes in me. (And, I hope this goes without saying, but not all these changes are bad...some are very good!).
So, maybe, instead of looking to people for understanding as a means of feeling connected, I need to embrace the love they are openly giving me. Even though they cannot completely relate, it's okay! Because what they can give - love - is so much richer. Love has no criteria or condition upon which it is formed. It just is. And, although being understood is a good feeling, being loved trumps it by a mile.
