Are we there yet?

When I was little, every summer my family would travel via automobile to visit my grandparents in Kansas. Now we lived in Ohio and any way you map it, it is around 1,000 miles to their house. While we were still pretty small, we'd do it over two days and stay at a motel with a pool. This was of course the highlight of the trip--the itty bitty in-ground pool at some random Super 8 or Days Inn. But as we got older, my parents would just make us leave earlier and earlier in the morning so that eventually we were on the road by 3AM and would make it to the farm by supper (dinnertime to us non-farm folk). We'd stop every 2-3 hours for a bathroom break and a stretch. My parents would switch drivers and then we'd be on our way.

I have very fond memories of these road trips. We always got to bring lots of "stuff" to keep us busy and we played the preverbial car games (I Spy, License Plate States, The Alphabet Game). Mom packed lots of snacks and drinks so we were never hungry. But the one thing that I remember vividly is that Iowa is a very long, flat state. The majority of the trip it seemed to me was driving in Iowa, even though it takes just as long to get to Iowa from Ohio as it does to drive through it. I also recall that once we crossed into Nebraska and started to head south from Omaha, we were getting close. It was another two hours, but the anticipation would start to build and we'd sit up and start to look out the windows a bit more often. Then we'd pass through Lincoln and the excitement of our arrival on the farm would now be palpable. Beatrice, NE came next and for as long a drive as we'd had so far, that last thirty minutes seemed to take FOREVER!

As we got older, we could better remember landmarks and those last miles would almost force you to ask "Are we there yet?" over and over. Once we arrived on the farm, we couldn't contain ourselves anymore...there were kitties to play with, ATVs to ride, hay bales to climb, and the softest grass you'd ever walked barefoot in to lie on while you looked at all the stars in the big Kansas sky. I am so thankful that I have these memories. I know that so many people will never experience the "country" life. And while I didn't live in the country as a child, it means more to me I think because those visits were special. I got to have a piece of the country, even if just for a little while once a year.

So to come to my point. I am in the infamous TWW (two week wait) following my first injectable cycle and double IUI. My beta is scheduled for Friday morning and I will be 13/14dpiui. While typically the TWW has had its agonizing, obsessive moments over the past two years, this TWW seems exceptional. My agonizing and obsessing has risen to a new level and the knot in my stomach is ever tightening. The process of TTC is like the 1,000 mile drive to Kansas. It is long, without much scenery, and with a constant destination in mind. Parts of it feel like Iowa, like they are never going to end. And then the familiar part comes each month, the hope that maybe this time this is it. Maybe this month will be the right time, the right place, the right combination of eggs, swimmers, drugs, and a little luck.

As the TWW begins you really do begin to see the end. It feels like Omaha to me. And then, the best part--the one week wait. You start to see the landmarks that are familiar to you. Your body is either having all those symptoms or your drugs are causing them or maybe even just your mind. They are very familiar. But unlike getting to the farm in Kansas, even if I keep asking "are we there yet?" I am not getting an answer. My destination comes into view every month and then just as quickly moves 1,000 miles away again.

This month has been especially hard, as I said. I think it's because we are really at a crossroad. Our next step would be IVF/ICSI because of Dh's morph problem. Maybe it feels so different because months ago, we still had lots of options. There were still so many unknown factors, we had no reason to think we wouldn't be successful. Now, we're down to the last big option. I know that this is really oversimplifying things and of course there are all kinds of decisions still to be made. But this one, this step forward feels so strange. I guess because for the first time in my whole life I'm really starting to feel the impact of what it may mean to not have a biological child. This doesn't mean I won't have children. But for the first time deep in my gut, I have this ache. This sadness for the girl I was when I never knew any different. When I simply took for granted that my life would include children of my own, not knowing the difficult road it might take to get there.

My faith tells me to trust, to relinquish control, to be patient, to listen for the answer. Each day I try to do these things, some days I'm more successful than others. I know, however, that this journey is not in vain. There is a reason and I can only ask for strength and patience while I wait. But no matter how hard I try there will always be a little voice in my head asking, "are we there yet?"