I have no clue how it happened, but we've somehow arrived at the end of January. I've just returned from a whirlwind work trip to Memphis; I successfully navigated the Blizzard of 2016 in the NorthEast and made it back safely to Williamsport late last night. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I was out!
Preparing for and traveling to/from the work trip was a great diversion from this current FET cycle. I did have to bring some meds with me on the trip (my shots passed through security but I did have a doctor's note just in case).
And now I'm here, the Monday before the Saturday when we transfer a little Knipe embryo. In in five days we will be catapulted back into the dreaded two-week-wait.
I do it every cycle: I somehow manage to detach from the process for the most part. I am able to chug through my busy/sweet/exhausting/exhilarating/mundane days with Chris and Gabe until... SMACK. The realization occurs that soon, a six-day-old life will placed in my uterus. I can't detach from that.
And that means I have to feel. Feeling is scary. Feeling underscores that I am a human, someone who can be elated or crushed. Happy or sad. Brave or scared. Feeling is scary.
But some feelings can be good.
I feel at peace with the decision we made that this FET will be our last for a few years. We had to draw a line somewhere. God helped us see this line. This is where we part ways from fertility-land either way, if we're pregnant or if we're not.
I feel united with Chris. We are a team. Whatever happens, we will be together in it and come out together too.
I feel the desire to cling to what I know to be true about who God is and what His promises are for me.
I feel many emotions today... And in fifteen minutes, I might feel something completely different. For now, I am hopeful yet guarded, if that combination can be understood.
I know God gets me. He understands right where I am. He's with me. I feel it.
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