It has been 7 days of strange, ill-timed, serendipitous, surreal and banal events. Where to begin?
Seven days ago we had a little hiccup in our home life. The caregiver for our Miracle Baby (now Miracle Toddler) informed me she wants to move on. Change career paths. Leave us. My first thought: the timing of this could not have been worse. On sober second thought: something good will come of this. I must accept that, embrace the opportunity for change, and keep my chin up.
Before points A and B there were a good deal of tears (all mine). The plan one year ago had been for this person – who has become (or who we have accepted as) part of our family unit – to be with us until baby #2 was a year old. That would be about one year from now. Or some months ago. Depending on which lost pregnancy we are using to calculate her employment term. The reminder – coming in the same week that we expected to welcome our Summer 2013 baby (“Mandy”) into the world – was painful, to say the least.
Six days ago I began to get sick. It started with a sore throat but quickly blossomed into some crazy immune or allergy reaction to I-still-do-not-know-what. My eyes were red hot and teared non-stop until all of the skin around them was red and resembled that of a geriatric elephant (do elephants develop more wrinkles as they age? for the purposes of this story, let’s agree they do). Co-workers asked if I was alright, if it hurt (what do you think?) and if I was an understudy for a raccoon. It sucked and it isn’t totally gone but it’s much better than it was two to six days ago.
Four days ago I finally got a call back from our fertility clinic. A call from the Donor Egg (DE) program coordinator, to be more specific. She gave me a bunch of information, asked and answered some questions and sent me a bushel of paperwork, including forms that needed signing, and a link to a new frozen donor egg bank with which our clinic is now working (to date they had only been affiliated with My Egg Bank out of Atlanta, GA, USA). She also promised to contact the counselor the LP and I would need to meet with as part of the requirements for participating in the DE program.
Three days ago the LP and I went to the lab to complete the bloodwork required for participation in the DE program. Nine vials for me, somewhat less for the LP. I also talked to the counselor by telephone and we agreed to coordinate by e-mail to schedule a time to talk.
Two days ago we confirmed the counseling appointment. I looked up the counselor online and I liked her even more than when I’d first spoken with her. She has good energy. The LP was afraid he was going to be evaluated and didn’t want to say the wrong thing. We talked about how the object of the mandatory counseling is to make sure we (or at least one of us) has given some thought to various ethical and emotional issues related to using donor eggs (or sperm).
Today we had our session with the counselor. I cried a little but on the whole I think it went well. She knew none of our history – and quite apart from our fertility challenges, we have had several long years of other relationship challenges stemming from a certain ex-spouse whose mission in life seems to be, at least in part, to emotionally castrate the LP and routinely attempt to poison his relationship with his older children. This was relevant because it factors into our choices about who and when to tell that we are using donor eggs or that our next child (God/Universe/Spirit willing) or children were donor-conceived. I would kill someone who tried to hurt our child and said ex-spouse would revel in the opportunity, were it made available. I hate that we have to think of this. But we do.
Today I also sent an e-mail authorizing payment of our various preliminary fees with our clinic for the DE program. May as well get the ball rolling…
And then… tonight. Tonight, on a lark, I took a home pregnancy test.
I can’t expect this to last, but I am shocked (to say the least). And scared. And pretty completely overwhelmed. So I’m going to do what all sane women suffering from secondary infertility and recurrent pregnancy loss ought to do. I’m going to go watch a movie with the LP and the Miracle Toddler and pretend none of this is happening.