And then I cried at work…

Ok – so here’s a rather personal story that is adding to my up-and-down mood. This is kind of disjointed. My apologies.

So my Dad died in 2000. A heartbreaking turn of events that wasn’t unexpected but devastating just the same. He got Hep-C from a blood transfusion in the early 90’s and eventually it killed him. Very sad. Very frustrating. And it made me very angry.

To add insult to injury, due to the date of his transfusion, he was ineligible for the major compensation packages that were offered to other folks. Until now. So after 8 years, he’s (well, my sister and I have) finally received the go-ahead for compensation for the gross oversight on the part of the Red Cross that resulted in his death (and the death of thousands more).

What does this have to do with IVF?  Well, today said cheque arrived – exactly one week before we’re due to pay for IVF #1. So after all this time, my Dad has provided for me once again. He was a single parent of two girls – an unusual position to have found himself in during the seventies. He took me to Mother/Daughter banquets, Mother’s Day Teas, took me to get my first ‘brassiere (I don’t even know how to spell brassiere)…and by took me I mean delivered me into the arms of the busty, glasses on a string around her neck sales woman at Sears, handed her his credit card, stuttered a bit and went off to find a coffee. When I was thinking about it the other day, I realized I never needed anything while he was around. I had a roof over my head, a car to drive when I needed it, clothes, food, an education, cool stuff I wanted more than I needed.

But starting a family. That’s a need I feel in my very core. It’s more than a want. And figuring out how to make it work moneywise was hard, but we had a plan. Little sacrifice here. Cut back there.

We’ve been waiting for this to be finalized for 8 years. Could have come any time. But the cheque has come now. In my time of need. And I am grateful for the timing. And I am thankful that the folks responsible have stepped up and taken responsibility.

But dammit – it’s also made me angry all over again. I miss him. Still. He’s the best Grandpa a kid never had.

He was Santa Claus and Superman in one. And has swooped in to rescue me and my husband (who he never had the pleasure to meet) again. Eight and a half years after we said good-bye for good.

I’m not a big one for signs. But if there was ever a moment to say ‘it’s a sign’ – this is it!

Thanks Dad. For everything. For every day I had the pleasure of your faith in me. Cross your fingers for us ok? I hope I’ll have the opportunity to be half the parent you were.

I miss you. Still. Every day. Especially today.

Birth Control Freak

One of the counter-productive truths of trying to conceive is that you find yourself on the birth control pill shortly before an IVF cycle. Now it’s been a few months for us – too many if you ask me. But this is the second month on this new (to me) brand. And, it’s taken me a week or so to realize that I’ve pretty much gone off the deep end. And I think it’s all the pill’s fault.

I am freaking out at work, crying over cute doggies, panting at my desk – feeling like I’ve had 5 cans of diet Co.k.e. I’m all fracked up and I am fully and completely blaming the pill.

I am supposed to be cutting down on the stress – and even the thought that my stress is too stressful is stressing me out.

I am a freak.

Hopefully tomorrow will be better

The Glass is Half Full – say it with me now…

So I’ve been bitching and moaning all week.  And it’s a sad truth that the more I bitch and moan, the bitchier and moanier (?) I get. So today ? Today is my glass half full day.

For starters, the wait for my first IVF is almost over. Thank god. The wait has been killing me. All the uncertainty and the fear of  screwing up the injections and having the cycle canceled and so on and so on only get worse when it’s all I think about day after day. So – wait almost over. Time to stop worrying and start channeling positivity. There is a chance this is going to work. I need to focus on that chance – and not the chance…never mind. Not even going to say it.

Next – I really like my new clinic. My last one just made me feel worse and worse at time went on. So if I’m going to have to spend lots of time in compromising positions it will be at a place I like.

I have a great partner through all of this – I’m very lucky to have met my husband and to have his unwaivering support on every step of our journey.

Not everyone I know is pregnant and the ones that are? Well, they’re all getting pretty chunky… It’s not nice – but it’s true. And  if I’m ever pregnant and someone around me isn’t but wants to be, I hope I have the courtesy to pack on a few pounds so they can glean a little joy from the situation.

I really like babies. And I’d really like to have one now. And I have done everything that was asked of me, and I have waited my turn (not patiently but waited) and I am ready to be loving, caring and nurturing. I am ready to take on the task of taking a tiny little person and parenting him or her into a great human being. I’m ready be up all night. I’m ready to worry that I’m f#(%ing them up. I’m ready.

For some months last year I lost hope. I couldn’t see a future that included a new member in our family. I couldn’t imagine it finally working. I was ready to give up. But I have hope renewed. Energy to channel into a positive outcome. And a dream of being a mother that I won’t let go of. Not yet.

THE GLASS IS HALF FULL. Maybe one day it’ll fill all the way to the top. Though a full glass is a lot easier to spill. And I can’t afford to let any of this hope run out.