Eggcellent Mom Chronicles

A good friend said to me not too long ago, “Renee, you’re handling this with so much grace.”

And I have been, on the outside. The truth is it’s a mask. And this week, it’s crumbling.

I’m scared.
Scared that investing my whole heart into this process will leave it irreparably shattered. I’ve worked so hard to visualize myself with a beautiful child in my arms. But this week, the dark thoughts are louder than usual.
What if it doesn’t end this way?

What if I’ve uprooted myself, spent my savings, and poured my soul into a dream-only to find it slipping through my fingers. What once felt like hope now feels like a nightmare.

I can pause here and say: this is how I’m feeling today.
Not every day.
But today I’m going to sit in it.
I’m not going to say “I’m good.”

Maybe it’s this time of year.
A year ago this month, I proudly shared my choice to become a single mom.
I never imagined I’d still be in limbo a year later.
Not pregnant.
No embryos.
Back at square one.

Last summer, I sold my home of 13 years to fund this. To have a larger home my parents could visit and comfortably stay in. A home large enough to raise a child. I believed I was building a future. But now I’m wondering, did I make the right decision?

A cloud hangs over me this month. If my first transfer had worked, I would have been due in the coming weeks.

May is the month of life.
The trees are blooming, everything is green and alive again.
And everywhere I turn, there’s pregnancy.
I overheard it in the checkout line, “I just love having a baby in my arms. Maybe I’ll convince my husband we should have a third.”
It’s the fourth pregnancy, third birth announcement I’ve seen this week.
And then there’s next Sunday.

My parents don’t live here.
Much of my family is far away.
I have no plans.
And my heart is hurting.

This year (and lifetime) of longing to be a mother feels like it’s falling apart.

I’m trying to hold onto hope.
I’m putting faith in my doctors-that the surgery last month and another upcoming IVF cycle will lead to a successful embryo transfer.

But the “what ifs” are loud.
What if it doesn’t work again?
Can my heart take it?
Is this even financially responsible anymore? Can I justify $60,000 for a dream that might never come true?
What if there are more complications?
What if even science and prayer together aren’t enough?

But then again…

What if it does work?