I’ve been waiting for Aunt Flo. Waiting all month for her visit, in fact. I feel something like the characters in Waiting for Godot. I am waiting for something to happen to relieve me from the limbo in which I exist. At the same time, I’m afraid of what might happen as I leave this stable limbo. What the heck am I talking about, you are probably wondering.
You see, I have scheduled my trip back to South Africa for my FET. The plan is for me to transfer on September 15th. As such, I need a period so that I can start my pills. Then it’s lupron on August 28th and estrogen soon thereafter. And there I go again, back into the breach.
You may be asking yourself why I’ve not mentioned this plan before. Hell, I’m wondering that myself. I think it has something to do with a familiar emotion: fear. I have so much fear going back through this process. Fear that it won’t work and fear that it will. Fear that I’ll end up not pregnant or with another dead baby. So if I don’t talk about it, then it won’t be real. Unfortunately, I have found that this defense mechanism isn’t working so well the closer I get to beginning the process.
I must face the scary reality of the FET process. Denial is no longer a useful strategy.
I’m going back to South Africa to try to have a baby. My uterus has been repaired and vetted by one of the best docs in her field. I’ve got 14 embies waiting. Dr. Le Roux did it before. Hopefully he’ll be able to repeat his magic.
But right now, I’m waiting for Aunt Flo. I’ve expected her ever day for the past week. I’m crampy, achy and bloated, but no sign of blood as yet. In a way that relieves me. I’m scared. Very, very scared.
P.S. Please don’t think there is any chance of my being pregnant naturally. Unfortunately hubby and I don’t work together in that way for natural pregnancy to even be possible. This is an unfortunate consequence of his addiction. It pains me a lot, but there is nothing I can do about the situation right now.