I’ve always found the thought of sleep as the human equivalent of IT saying “have you tried turning it off and on again?” I can’t allow myself to remain stuck in the depths of the tremendous sadness and pain that comes with IVF with PGD. It doesn’t help anything. I’m not 100% today, and that’s ok- I’ll rest some this morning, get some things done before work, go help others (reminder- psychologist here!) and come home to hubs and snuggle the rest of the evening. We’re getting closer to the 16th, which is about when they said we might know about which embryos have the BRAC2 gene and which ones are viable for FET. The part of me that’s terrified and anxious that we won’t have any viable embryos is there and present in the back of my mind, and the part of me that’s hopeful none of them have that blasted gene is also still there. I know that logically it’s most likely that half of the embryos will have the gene….. and that also terrifies me. I mean, what if we only get three embryos and they transfer two the first time and they don’t take? 1) I want a big family 2) I don’t know if I’m strong enough to do everything leading up to the egg retrieval again. Not even going to talk about the cost of having to do that again…. sigh. All of those thoughts swim around in my head like they live there and always will. It’s hard for me to think that life will ever move forward from this adventure. It’s hard for me to answer “why are we doing this?” … and then I think of some of the best stories, and I think about Two in particular from The Lord of the Rings:
“It’s like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger they were. And sometimes you didn’t want to know the end… because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it’s only a passing thing… this shadow. Even darkness must pass.”
And then again this one:
“There, peeping among the cloud-wrack above a dark tor high up in the mountains, Sam saw a white star twinkle for a while. The beauty of it smote his heart, as he looked up out of the forsaken land, and hope returned to him. For like a shaft, clear and cold, the thought pierced him that in the end the Shadow was only a small and passing thing: there was light and high beauty for ever beyond its reach.”
Now I’m not claiming to be facing the destruction of the world as we know it, or that we’re trying to stop evil through peril to our own lives… but it does have the same flavor of hopelessness at times and fear and anxiety and the feeling of being such a small thing in a great big uncontrollable world. It’s for that reason that I am tasked with recharging every day and trying to change my attitude. Because if I don’t, we’ll, what world am I eventually going to bring my child into? It’s tough to be calm, relaxed, and relatively stress free throughout all of this. AND today I will go back to trying.