It is official. Making a baby just turned into a group effort. As in my sweet OB/GYN, her sweet nurse, a lady who drew my blood like a vampire and oh, yea, my Husband and I.
Last Friday was the first big sit down on how 16 months after pulling the goalie no one is knocked up. Namely, me. I love my doc to death and I think we would have a lot of wine chats if she didn’t spend so much time up in my woman business. She quickly started listing off what we can do and laid out a battle plan as I nodded my head and adjusted the gown that kept falling off my shoulders. (Not everyone is a 6XL, could we make those fit a bit better?)
We decided to not start on fertility pills quite yet as we don’t want a December baby and my Husband and I will not see each other whatsoever in March to be doing the deed on a regular basis. Also, since I’m heading to England I don’t want to go all jacked up on hormones. My friend and I already sob enough in Heathrow airport when we see one another, no need to add more to it. The month of March will just be to rule out all the basics and then I will start fertility drugs in April. Ready or not. I walked out the door of the hospital with tons of paper describing procedures and possibilities along with the cost of everything that is not covered by insurance. (Holy cost. Once more-Holy Cost!)
I kept myself in check most of the day, going to work after my appointment and sticking to a normal routine. I ran things through my head as very black and white. I came home to sit with the Husband and discuss everything with him as he didn’t go to the appointment with me. It was then that the gray area came out, the emotions snuck up on me. We are heading down a road that can quickly spiral out of control if you don’t keep ahold of the reins. The options, the money, the time, the emotions and much more that we have to take into account. I was suddenly very overwhelmed and the calm mannerism I have had regarding all of this for the past 16 months went out the window. I cried. I ugly cried. I wanted to stomp my feet and ask why the fuck we can’t just have something go smoothly? Why can’t one thing just be easy? I wanted to yell at my family and friends for their shitty support. I wanted to just throw in the white flag and say forget it. I climbed in bed and went to sleep instead.
The big problem is that all of this takes me back to fighting for custody of Rebecca. A story I will share one day. I feel like I’m back in the same spot fighting for my kid. Fighting an uphill battle that people don’t want to talk about with you. Can’t I just go through the process of bringing one kid in my house the old fashioned way? I decided I have to cope how I coped back then. One day at a time.