Hope, fear, and the what if's

Following our bout with primary infertility, I was ready to go back to the RE and start TTC a second baby when I was about 6 weeks pregnant with Bean. I looked at his heartbeat on the ultrasound machine screen and thought, "Well, shit, it worked! When can we schedule the next IUI?"

When I was 7 months pregnant, I had a dream that I did actually get pregnant with a second child. I carried them together for two months, delivered only Bean, and then gestated the second child to full term.

At my 38 week appointment with my OB, I asked, "When can I start trying for another baby?" She wisely advised me to wait until after I had delivered Bean. I guess that's why they get paid the big bucks.

I think it's because of the momentum and continuity of my IF experience. I have been in TTC mode for almost four years now, and as painful as it is, I want this phase of my life to be over as. soon. as. possible. Getting pregnant put our IF in remission, but it didn't erase or cure it, and I know I can never fully begin healing from the trauma until we completely close the door on our reproductive years. Which means getting knocked up again ASAP. Ha.

For the past six months, I have been aching to go back to the RE. Longing. Yearning. Because my hope that we can conceive on our own is very, very low. Like Al Green's singing voice or the chance that I won't eat chocolate today. To me, the RE represents the only possibility that we may actually get pregnant again someday.

And now that the appointment is only one week away, I'm terrified.

In the big picture, I do have a small amount of hope that we will have another child. It's a low-grade, general hope, when I don't think about the details of how it will happen. When we sat down and reviewed all the tests and surgery with our last RE, right before we started the IUIs, he offhandedly gave us a 90% chance that we would conceive. Considering that now we have one successful pregnancy behind us, and a chemical pregnancy unassisted, I would imagine that RE would give us at least the same estimate that we will conceive again.

But when I think about TTC on a specific cycle level, I have very little hope. Despite the advice of the IF book I am currently reading, I think I actually fight the hope. I don't want it. Go away. When it creeps in, it can elevate my mood to an almost giddy excitement, but it also augments the heartbreak and tears that come with AF. It's a double standard, because I have hope for others, and I want them to have hope for themselves; but it's just not for me. Like sushi and camping.

Now that I am facing the specifics with the RE because of the appointment, I am feeling scared and strangely... disappointed? Even when I put aside all the logistical annoyances (starting over with a new RE because we moved, and trying to find childcare for constant trips to an extremely inconvenient office location), seeing the doctor is not the relief I thought it would be.

I'm afraid. And that's when the "what if's" creep in.

* What if treatment is too expensive, and we cannot afford enough cycles to get pregnant?
* What if I can't find anyone to watch Bean when I need to go to the doctor?
* What if the doctor wants to spend months redoing all the tests we did 2-3 years ago, including the laparoscopy?
* What if the doctor tells me he won't start treatment until I wean Bean?
* What if my husband and I don't agree on how many/which treatments to pursue?
* What if we do the same protocol several times and don't get pregnant?
* What if we exhaust all of our treatment options and come home without a baby?

If I were still working as a counselor and had myself as a client, I might encourage myself to begin answering those questions to reduce their power.

But I don't feel like it right now.