It’s starting. The beginnings of our first IVF cycle. Hopefully our only IVF cycle.
After two summers of medications (Clomid in 2011, Follistim in 2012) plus IUIs galore and no pregnancies, our path was directed to IVF.
At first, I was apprehensive about IVF. Because when we began this journey 3+ years ago, wide-eyed and naive to the wiles of physiology and biology, I think I may have said I’d never do IVF. It was too costly, too much like playing God, too many risk factors, and too many procedures. Whoops.
Never say never. When it comes to wanting to have a child with your beloved, never goes right out the window.
And that’s really all this comes down to… wanting to have his child. A progeny. That tiny person (that grows up) and looks so much like him or me and acts so much like him or me. A reminder. That they are not my beloved or me and that they are their own person. To have that once tiny person grow to be anything they want to be because they know they can because you told them so, I imagine that would be an amazing feeling. A feeling I want to have. To see their little faces light up with the smallest of amusements and to see their much older face light up with still the smallest of amusements.
That’s what I want. A child of our own (now assisted) creation. But still our making. Ours. Us. Him and I.
Not everyone agrees with IVF. I get it. I do. But God made doctors and scientists for a reason, right? I thought so.