On the 16th of September there is a dark penned block squared around the number, the day AF should start. On the 30th there is a small H written in my hand, the date of HCG injection. On October 14th there is another mark, a triangle written in the corner of the date block, the day I can take a home pregnancy test. A page that documents 30 days that could have been lived in two week intervals.
This morning as I clicked my seat belt I turned to Jacob and said “Lets to go Cooperstown for my birthday. We can spend the weekend at the Finger Lakes” He was completely caught off guard. When we were first married, when the deployments and duty schedules would allow we often took trips such as those. They were spontaneous and adventurous and took little more planning than making sure we had the money to stay and a hotel to stay in. There was no worry of injections that had to be kept on ice, or being within an hour’s drive time for an ultrasound, or planning an adventure around the need for a Tampax.
I know it’s only been 3 days, so perhaps this is a bit premature, but already I am glad I opted to do this. Breaks before were one cycle at a time, and I dreaded those 30 days. I was missing out on something wonderful, and in fact I was. Only I wasn’t missing out on catching the egg, I was missing out on living. Sure I look forward to AF coming in December. I look forward to being healthy enough to try again. I will not lie. I don’t look forward to the end being written on those chapters of my story. I do however long for the day when I permanently look at the calendar and the only marks are my days off rather than a life that has been perpetually planned out in two week increments.
Talk about a weakend resolve. I held the most adorable baby boy today. He is only 4 days old, and weights all of 7 lbs 11 oz at birth. L, my co-worker is a new grandma. We imagined that we would get to see young Joshua at his 3 week check up, but to our surprise and horror (she had a c-section after 31 hours of labor) she brought Joshua in to see us today. At first I felt the familiar pang, am I “well enough” to see him? Then I went over and stood in the door with the others who were milling around. “Come in Susan” I was told, and at first I tried to make an excuse that there were to many people, but a path was cleared. Then when they asked if I would like to hold him I immediately said “absolutely”
He smelled so sweet, and felt so good in my arms. For a moment I imagined what it would have been like come December for him to have been mine, but the thought was fleeting. I was even able to give him to the next in line without feeling an old pang. Who knows, maybe 3 days isn’t too premature after all…