After
As the daily injections and regular ultrasounds became routine, I started to let myself wonder about after.
What happens after infertility and IVF? We’ve been hoping for this particular after for so long. It felt foreign and thrilling to be so close. And I had so many questions. How does life continue forward? What does pregnancy look/feel like? Will I be scared? Will it feel real? Will it be as amazing as I’ve imagined? When will we tell people? How will I compassionately compose an announcement knowing exactly what it feels like to be the woman wishing it was her sharing this news? Will I still want to skip a gender reveal because I really only care that it’s a healthy baby? Will I feel ready after all these years of longing and waiting? Who will I be? What will I write about? What does after look like?
Most of those questions weren’t answered because my after didn’t come. Not in the way I thought it would. Post IVF, I have found myself still stumbling through our waiting season with more questions and more choices to make. I had so many ideas about what life might be like after… but none of them included more waiting.
Now what?
Truthfully, I haven’t known. What comes next, where we go from here - processing everything from both a rational and an emotional place has taken time. And it’s challenging to take your time when you are fearful of running out of it, when you’ve been waiting for years already. I’ve been bursting with words, but haven’t known how or if I wanted to share them. (Maybe you’ve noticed that my blog has been a little quiet. In fact, I’ve been writing and ruminating on this post for months. It’s now been more than six since we lost our embryo.) I’ve had precious conversations with God about acting on my faith and whether or not that always means taking action. I’ve found myself feeling gratitude for this season of life that’s had me running into the arms of my Father. And deeper gratitude still for the simple yet stunning revelation that that’s all He’s ever wanted from me. I’ve taken a long look at myself and who I’ve become during this wait, throughout this heartache. Growing has been done that I’m extremely proud of, but some broken pieces have left me with the sour taste of knowing I can do better. I want to do better.
So, what next? Now that I know that this particular after is still during? The details are still a work in progress, but it’s like I’m finally awake. Imagining what comes after infertility, after IVF, after a baby made me realize that I’ve been waiting like this was a game of “stick in the mud,” and the only way for me to get unstuck was a positive pregnancy test. I let myself shut down in so many other areas of my life because waiting is hard. And it is! But I let it become the only thing I was doing. It’s like upon arrival in the waiting room I was told they weren’t ready for me, that I should go do something else, and they’d give me a call when it was time. But instead, I decided to move into the waiting room like a protester refusing to leave until I got what I wanted. (What do we want? A baby! When do we want it? Three years ago!) In my waiting, I forgot there were other things I wanted too. Other plans God has for me. Other parts of myself that needed my attention. I am ready to spend time with those other parts of me again. The waiting room sucks. It’s time to move out and make changes.
Yes, I am still in a season of waiting. I am still hoping for a child. But instead of waiting around for after like a stick in the mud, I’m going to let myself live in the waiting.
