Dates

I have dates. I didn't want to say anything because I don't want to share them. I don't want anyone to ask how many eggs or how the embryos are doing or how many we ultimately transferred or (especially) when the pregnancy test is. I don't want to be backed into a corner where I feel forced to answer these questions because the person asking cares so much for us and what we're going through.

Which isn't to say I'm not asking for your love, positive thoughts, prayers, smoke signals, love, encouragement, support, love and understanding, because I am - somewhat desperately asking for all of these fantastic intangible gifts. Which also isn't to say that I won't (double negative) share some of the specifics - I might. But on my terms. When it's all over, I know I'll talk about it and be eager to share, to educate. Unless I'm engulfed with grief and then I'll do whatever I need to in order to get through it.

So, I'm an anxious, emotional ball of a mess. I will be this way for awhile. Good news** will scare me and bad news will devastate me. But I'm willing and allowing the tiniest smidgen of hope to creep in.

**C is the sort of man that cannot keep a good secret. He just can't. He won't last the 12 weeks I would like us to wait to tell friends and family about any possible good news (I can already tell how these presumptuous words will hurt me later), so the deal is that we won't say anything until after seeing/hearing a heartbeat. And since no one knows the exact timing of everything, no one will know when to anticipate good or bad news. Sounds like a plan to me. I think.


- Posted from my mobile phone