So many times during our 3+ year journey of TTC, miscarriages, and IF I found myself feeling indifferent to getting pregnant or having a baby. Granted, I knew it was just a facade, a coping mechanism- layered on top of grief too deep to touch. The facade precariously held me together when faced with the inability to make happen the one thing I had always dreamed of- creating and carrying a child inside me and becoming a mom.
As much as I thought that was the one thing I had always wanted, over the years, the doubt started to creep in..-- Maybe, maybe my dream of being pregnant and of having a baby wasn't all it was cracked up to me. Maybe the fact that I COULDN'T achieve this dream had somehow artificially inflated my expectations, expectations that the dream once achieved could never live up to. Maybe it wasn't worth the struggle, the long arduous road of hope. Maybe it wasn't worth it, I feared.
Then when all other options were exhausted we dove into IVF. The very act of doing this forced me to believe that our dream of having a family was worth it. IVF is not for the faint of heart, nor pocketbook for that matter. While the odds, we were told were in our favor, there is no guarantee. And again, the doubt crept in. Is what we are trying to achieve, really worth all of this?
I have no doubt that fully answering that question will take much more time- but the one thing that has humbled me time and time again during these 18, relatively short weeks of pregnancy, is that it is most definitely worth it.
I would do it all again in a heartbeat. To have this. Seeing my belly become round. Watching DH talk to it and giggle with joy when he catches a glimpse of me from the side view. Starting to imagine that a wrinkly, pink, tiny baby will be in my arms, for real.
This is most definitely everything I had dreamed of and so much more.
It has not disappointed.