Barring something unforeseen coming up, the next few weeks on this blog will probably be quiet ones. Because I don't believe for a moment that we will actually conceive on a break cycle--I have my doubts about whether we'll ever manage it with assistance, much less without--I don't plan on paying much attention to where I am in my cycle this month or making any attempt to predict my "fertile window."
There is a possibility that I may have an emotional experience that I want to vent about, and I am working on a post about why MM and I aren't particularly keen on pursuing the option of adopting in the event we are unable to conceive our own biological child. . . but otherwise I probably won't have much to say. (I can only post so many times about how EVERYONE ELSE IN THE WORLD seems to be getting pregnant except me. Two more announcements on Facebook this week, by the way.)
If I had a "Hope Meter" on this blog, it would be at zero most of the time. (One good reason I don't have one!) Occasionally something happens that gives me a glimmer of hope, though. Not so much hope that we will eventually be successfully in our quest to have a baby, but hope that I will be OK, whatever happens.
I have alluded before to friends I have who conceived their "miracle" baby on a break cycle after two failed IVFs and then conceived again when she was only four months old. These are my friend R and his wife E. I have known R for many years. He was my boyfriend from 1994 to 1996, when I was 23 to 25 years old. We actually lived together for over a year, and many people (including R and my parents) thought that we would eventually get married. We broke up (relatively) amicably in the fall of 1996.
Anyway, R and I have remained friends over the years. I attended his wedding to E in November 2000. We don't talk often but do exchange Christmas and birthday cards and talk on the phone on an average of once or twice a year. Since he has been married, I have seen R only once. . . . but this is due more to the fact that we live in different parts of the country than due to any awkwardness on his or E's part about our friendship.
I had a card in the mail yesterday out of the blue from R. (I smiled on seeing the envelope because it was addressed to my married name. Except I kept my own name. I guess R doesn't realize that.) My birthday was in March, and he sent me a (belated) card for it, so I was surprised to hear from him. The card was a "Thinking of You" card signed by him and his two girls with photos of them (now almost-5 and almost-4) inside.
Seeing photos of the children of a man who I could have married gave me a moment's pause. But then I was just happy for my friend and happy to see how they are growing up.
I am happy with my life and wouldn't change it. It's good to remember that.