, ,

Yesterday I was pooped on (by the dog, twice), vomited on (by myself and the dog), pulled over (by a cop), vomited on someone else (same cop; he quickly determined I had a good reason for not coming to a complete stop at the stop sign but decided against helping me clean up the dog butt explosion in the car). I striped to my skivvies on the side of the road (twice) and washed myself and the dog with a hose behind a gas station, all while driving 350 miles from CA to AZ. I have now rewashed myself and the dog several times, but I refuse to go near the car. Side note – I challenge anyone to be stuck in a car on a curvy road, unable to pull over, with a dog in the backseat spraying diarrhea everywhere (including on you and the windshield) and not vomit. Can’t be done

After a day like that, no one wants to get a call from their fertility clinic. As I saw the number come up I wondered if I was about to get shit on yet again. Bracing myself, I answered. Turns out my DE nurse had some news. She hadn’t called me all week because she wanted to give us and the donor a week to consider moving forward. She said especially in light of all that we’ve been through, in particular while choosing a donor, she wanted to make sure everyone was 100% on board. She spoke with the donor 3 separate times this past week, reiterating the processes and giving her a bit of information about us – nothing too personal, just the basics of the situation. She says the donor is excited to move forward, pleased to be matched with us and has a solid understanding of both the process and the commitment. The only things she has left to do are the genetic testing and psychological profile and the nurse isn’t worried about either. On Monday, I am to call the financial gal at the clinic to firm up all the numbers and send the next check, as well as the cycling nurse to discuss where I am in my cycle and start getting synced up with the donor. It looks like it’s happening. It’ll take about 2 weeks (on the outside) for the donor to complete her testing and then all we have to do is….the cycle itself.

Considering that we’ve never gotten this far before you’d think I’d be ecstatic, but really I’m extremely cautiously optimistic. The bitter, hardened part of me is working overtime to hedge my bets and prep my soul for disaster (that would be the devil on my shoulder saying “The timing couldn’t be worse. You’re going to finish your dissertation while pregnant? Who’s going to hire a pregnant women once you’re done? So you’ll be unemployed? You know your lease is up in Jan and the landlord is selling the house so you have to move? You’re going to be pregnant AND unemployed AND homeless? If this doesn’t work it out it will be a blessing in disguise.” And the angel on the other shoulder whispers “Of course you’ll find a job, don’t be silly. You already have 2 job possibilities lined up. And you’ll just move into another house and this will let you have a nursery, and it will be a great chance to get rid of all the extra junk (physical and emotional) you’ve been wool gathering for the last few years.”)

Either way, here are the things I know for certain

  1. There is never a perfect time to have a baby. No one ever looks at their watch and goes “I have the next 18 years free, let’s have a kid.” No one ever looks in their wallet and goes “Too much money in here, we should have a kid.”
  2. I’m not getting any younger. (My eggs are already shot, but they were probably crappy by the time I was 25.) My ability to easily and successfully have a comfortable and complication free pregnancy decreases with every passing year. My energy level for chasing toddlers isn’t going to increase in my 40’s either.
  3. I want a child. My husband wants a child. And in the end this is the only thing that matters.