As I look back at posts like this one: Sucky road to parenthood story #1 or this one: Story #2, I remember the time before blogging, where we tried, for 16 cycles with donor sperm to try and get pregnant. I remember how I cried, fetal position on the bed the first time it didn’t work, because I was certain that my Eastern-European ovaries would get me knocked up quickly. I remember how each time we switched donors that I was hopeful again. I remember getting more and more bitter and angry at each pregnancy I saw, each BFP I read about, each adoption that was successful. I remember thinking it would never work, and looking despair right in the kisser, feeling my soul sucked out of me each time.
I still haven’t forgotten how that feels, it’s just been lovingly and gently put up on a shelf in the recesses of my memory by the tiniest of hands, and the warmest of hearts. Malka has melted the bitter icicle that had become my hope. She is just about the best thing that has ever happened to me (outside of Narda, of course!).
I wish SO much for those friends I’ve made along the way to experience the power of motherhood. You have all been there for me, some longer than others, but you have all been there – and then when Malka came home the support and love continued. I am forever grateful.
One of my friends who has been there since I first put down my cigarettes, almost 4 years ago, and has been on the journey with us and continues on that journey herself is having her third FET cycle today. She’s had years of timed baby making sex, IUI’s IVF’s and now FET’s. S, I pray that today’s the day. I love you, and thank you for being there for me, and I hope you know how much we (and especially boo boo baby bite-face)are pulling for you.