This last week put me over the edge.
I have been waiting....patiently waiting.....waiting so damn long for this whole process to start that I worked myself into a tizzy by the end of last week when we finally pulled the trigger.
Every time I feel like this is it, we are finally moving forward....whether it's a new doctor, more answers, insurance lining up, a new job....every time we seem to make one small stride forward, I feel like we are hit with another thing to push that start date back a bit.
Don't get me wrong, it's what we want and what we need for peace of mind.
We need genetic testing.
We need all the set-up that goes along with it.
And even though I know this...I have been so antsy to JUST. GET. GOING.
2015 was so much fun.
I didn't have a care in the world.
Even through a lay-off and job change, life was good.
Life is still good.
But I feel like I just want to get to the end without experiencing the whole journey.
I am getting stressed out that my original plans keep going out the window.
I said it before, I'm Type A.
I want to know our timeline and mark it in my calendar and follow it to a T.
I want to speculate and jot down milestones when I think they are coming.
I cannot stand having to scribble out what I thought was going to be a milestone, and instead is more of another long lag of downtime waiting for the next set-up to be complete.
I was so frustrated with trying to do everything I possibly could to expedite our parents test kits.
I finally got everything delivered Friday.
They were supposed to test and send everything back.
And, of course, there was a little snafu....but man, did it set me off.
All my careful planning, all my details, all my begging, all my research...out the door in a matter of seconds.
And for what?
So we have another couple of days added to our timeline....what does it matter?
But it DID matter to me.
So much so that I launched into a feverish tirade against anyone that even dare tell me to calm down.
NO ONE IS AS INVESTED IN THIS AS ME!!
Long story short...I realized what an ass I made of myself.
No, I had not planned on waiting to start IVF for 11 weeks.
No, I had not planned to be jabbing myself with needles all summer long.
No, I had not expected genetic set-up to take this long.
Not in the slightest.
PGD took my ill-timed plans and not only threw them out the window...but rocket launched them into outer space...never to bee seen again.
Plans....what a crap shoot.
So with this first hiccup, I vowed to stop worrying about the details.
I imagine there will be more to come.
How could there not?
There is coordination between two genetics lab, an IVF facility, and our specialists facility.
That's like at least five sets of hands with who knows how many admins behind the scenes.
And the shipping and receiving and procurement and documentation.
This whole year is not going how I had expected it to.
But I can do one of two things:
1) Totally freak out for the next eight months....ultimately setting myself up for failure
or
2) Try....with what little will-power I have...to just go with the flow.
I just get so fucking angry sometimes that this is the hand we were dealt.
I can't believe we will spending 9-ish months setting up to get pregnant, then (hopefully) finding success, then another 9-ish months finally being pregnant.
It's like being pregnant for 18 fucking months!!
Could you imagine?
If this isn't a test for how much we want this, I don't know what is.
As of today, the lab has received my parents saliva tests, and Mark's parents will arrive tomorrow.
We should know those results in about two weeks.
And my dad?
He gets his biopsy results Thursday.
I am nervously waiting those results as much as I am sure he is.
What a weird fucking year this will be.
Thanks for reading, loves.
