An Un-Due Date

 

Today is my un-due date. Anyone care to take a guess what that is?  I have had a lot of these but I think the last few have been progressively harder for me. You see, 9 months ago I sat in a waiting room at our fertility clinic waiting for my AM rendezvous with Mr. Ultrasound Wand {insert wolf whistle}.You tend to wait a lot when you are riding pine in the game of baby making. The waiting room is well, true to it’s name. A room where you waste countless hours of your life away. That’s where I met 2 amazing women. We were cycling at the same time and happened to get to know each other and share our fertility woes. These were women just like me! Taking crazy shots, flipping out on their spouses, and wanting to put together the last missing puzzle piece in their marriage, which was a baby. So our baby marathons opened up the door for great conversations and support. The 2 ladies had their transfers 2 days apart from me. The result… both tested positive with twins no less 2 weeks later. I was the 1 out of 3. Effing my luck, I am the last woman standing; and it’s a pretty lonely place. I still keep up with with both of them, one is local and we have kept in touch throughout her pregnancy. She just gave birth to two beautiful girls this weekend, the other fertility soldier delivered her twins last week. Amazing. I hate the fact that I have a hard time getting excited about XYZ who tried for a month to get pregnant. It’s a miracle of course but not noteworthy. As for my fellow sisters who sat in the clinic day after day, paid their life savings, possibly robbed a bank and shed many tears in between, well sorry I am cheering for the under dogs here.

 

Today though, I would have been a mother. Just like I had an un-due date the other 4 cycles before it. It is like Ground Hogs Day, I just hit reset every morning. It’s hard to explain, but even though you know that round just simply wasn’t meant to be, you hold on just for a moment for what would have or could have been. So today on my un-due date, I sit with my half empty glass of wine and and try to suppress those thoughts of me yelling at Chris to drive faster to the hospital, taking bets if Chris would cry when he saw our baby for the first time, and what he/she would have looked like when they were placed in my arms. Instead, we press on. I push through the nasty emotional darts that get thrown at me unexpectedly, and I morn those 2 embryos that we did not get to meet.

 

“Waiting is painful. Forgetting is painful. But not knowing which to do is the worse kind of suffering” -Paulo Coelho