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One day soon I hope I’ll have good news – happy things to post on here – rather than the usual doom and gloom complaining. But, I don’t. Not yet.

My sadness from the other day has shifted into something a bit more sinister that feels uncannily like fear. I am afraid (there, I said it) of what comes next. This feels dangerously like putting all of my eggs in one basket (which it is, physically and metaphorically). My sister is our last chance, and that is a HUGE scary thing. What if it doesn’t work? After all, if infertility has taught me anything it’s that I’m not the exception, I’m the worst case scenario. My usual “Hope for the best prepare for the worst” model doesn’t work; it’s more like “Don’t let yourself hope at all and wear a helmet and body armor ’cause the worst is coming and it’s gonna hurt like hell”.  S and I had a conversation today that broke my heart. He wanted to talk about baby names, asked me if I had picked a boy name. He’s hoping again, he’s back onboard. We talked about it for a few minutes, laughing and smiling, and suddenly I realized what I was doing and was furious with myself. It felt like leading him on, allowing him to hope so freely. It felt like it was jinxing it.

I’m afraid to hope again. I’m afraid that if it doesn’t work I’ll fall apart. I’m afraid that if it doesn’t work my sister will feel like she failed. I’m afraid her test results will come back as borderline DOR and we won’t be able to even try. I’m afraid she has the same thing as me and that she’ll be thrown into infertility hell with us. THAT would be the absolute worst thing that could happen.

My sister and her fiance fly out here on Easter (fittingly the holiday where eggs take center stage), and the following week she has her appointments with our doctors here (she had her initial consultation in her home state-no results yet) and with the psychologist and the lawyer. It’s getting real up in here. It’s not just the happy feelings of sisterly love and nebulous future possibilities – we’re back to cold hard facts, appointments, statistics, probabilities… and once bitten, twice shy. I have learned the hard way that I fall on the wrong side of all those numbers. And I’m scared.

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