Ah, remember when making a baby involved a different kind of poking?
Today was our first injection. After bringing home a load of drugs impressive enough to have all three pharmacists at my local drug store abandon what they were up to and come to the counter to wave and shout good luck, I proceeded to mentally prepare myself for the first jab.
Any Lord of the Ring fans out there? No – ok then I’ll try and re-frame the reference. It might seem like just one needle. But you step out your door on this adventure. And you only plan on going to the end of the drive, or the end of the street. Then you find you’ve travelled twice as far as you ever thought you’d have to. And certainly twice as far as you ever thought you could.
And at that moment you realize you just have to keep walking. Because your task, your journey. It just isn’t finished yet.
So today – as I was thinking about my first needle I realized that I may be on my first injection but I’m already so far in that it feels more like the start of a new chapter in a book that’s hopefully 3/4 through than a whole new story. Which brought me great comfort. I sometimes think it’s never going to work, but that I have to try everything so that when I give up I can do so without regret.
But today it felt like maybe having a baby was possible. And that needle delivered a shot that was 1 part Lupron and 2 parts hope.
Almost as much as there was the first time my husband and I ‘had the talk’ and decided we’d try in earnest to have a baby. All that time ago. The feeling of trust and love and commitment that I took from that day and the days that followed, through one No after another didn’t fade. Just got a little lost in the shuffle.
But tonight as he was holding the sharp container and I was fighting with air bubbles and alcohol swaps it swept over me all over again. It felt so right – the two of us trying to have a baby. And I was nearly overcome. Just like the first time.