So, yes… I go in Saturday for an ultrasound. I’m a little relieved and yet irritated by this. Relieved because I’ll know for sure that my lining is ready for an embryo. Irritated because now I’m thinking about it. I don’t want to think about it.

I know I keep saying this over and over again, but I just want to know. I want to know that somehow, someday, this is going to end well. As much as it makes statistical sense, as much as people tell me it will all work out… we just don’t really know until it happens. And that is simply the worst part. The waiting, without knowing the answer… without knowing how the story ends.

I can definitely tell you this is not how I saw my life. I can’t say I really had a plan, but I know this is certainly not what I ever envisioned… same with anyone who is going through IVF. It’s just not part of anyone’s vision. It’s a deviation, a delay.

But I also can’t say I entirely dislike it, either. There’s a part of me that really likes keeping track… the statistics, the knowledge, the weirdness of it all. I like educating people. I like researching. The shots and ultrasounds are certainly not such a big deal – not to start with, and not now. Like many things about my “new” life I just took them as they came, without really questioning, without really thinking about it. Like many things about this journey it’s taught me a thing or two about what I “can’t” do, what I “won’t” do. Your definitions change when it’s something you want so badly. Even surviving grief just becomes a part of you. You have no choice. It’s forward or backward, and in order to choose forward you must deal with what you’ve been given.

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I keep saying to my therapist, I want to do something more. I want to help people. She suggested that maybe this blog is “my thing” – is my way of reaching out and helping. I’m always touched when someone reaches out to me, when someone thinks I would be a good person to lean on for a little while, to get answers and support from. I try, but there’s always a part of me that worries that I’m just too selfish, too wrapped up in my own shit. So when someone reaches out and says, “You seem like someone who would help,” I feel really good about myself. Maybe I’m doing something right. Maybe what I do means something after all.

This blog was started simply as my own thing… it was to track my progress for posterity. I gave the link to a couple of friends who I figured would want to know, but that was it. I had no big plans, and certainly had no idea where my life would take me. So now I’m always a little bit caught off-guard when I look at my stats and see the kind of numbers that I see. I am glad that people see something in my words that they can relate to. I am glad that people can walk away from my blog and think about life in general.

Maybe my therapist is right, maybe this is “my thing.” Even if I never do anything else, at least I’ve done this. But I still don’t feel like my work is done. I don’t know where I’m going from here, but I’m still looking for something to pull at me. There is something more I will do for people…. I just have to find it. Maybe this isn’t the right time, yet. Maybe I’m just not ready yet. Maybe I have to be on more solid ground before I can really start to help others.