Dexamethasone (.75mg, oral pill): It may very well be a figment of my imagination, but I did indulge in a random case of snacking last night as I rummaged around my parents kitchen like some sort of rabid animal.
A handful of pretzels, a couple bites of peach ice cream, a few potato chips, one organic strawberry yogurt bar and three quarters of someones left over hamburger later, and I was finally able to talk some sense into myself.
Lupron (10units, subQ injection): Thrown off guard by the ease of yesterday's injection, I was little disappointed at the unsteadiness of my more than capable hand this morning. Still nothing to complain about-the needle swiftly broke the skin and left no sign of damage behind-but it was definitely enough to let a little discouragement sink in.
And then I panicked at the realization of emotion breaking through; which meant my numbness was disappearing more quickly than I'd previously anticipated.
But before I could shake it off completely, my husband started talking about how we would tell our families and friends the good news of our long awaited pregnancy. He dreamed up plans of a large BBQ-because that's what country boys think is necessary to have a good time-and even asked if he could be in charge of the ever-expanding guest list and all the glamorous specifics of the festivities, since I would be tired and nauseated from my pregnancy, of course.
And although I wanted to tell him it wasn't safe to start planing something yet, remind him that it's better not to get our hopes up and gently shatter his dreams of the perfect coming-out-of-the-pregnancy-closet-BBQ, I just gave in and granted him my permission.
And since I'm a type A personality by nature, I even began to form a mental picture right along with him, contemplating how long we would wait to announce our precious blessing, and what time of the year this massive BBQ would take place in. And before I knew it, thoughts of where we would have it, how we would decorate, and where we would come up with the money to put it into action took up at least an hour of our regularly scheduled bedtime conversations.
I still can't bring myself to do the math required to figure out the estimated due date of our miracle baby if this cycle happens to actually work, and I definitely will not take part in any sporadic baby purchases this time around. I realize I'm guilty of holding back in attempt at protecting what's left of my heart that hasn't been stained with infertility, but it doesn't mean I can't still live.
And it most certainly doesn't mean I can't pretend plan a BBQ, either.
When things get hard, when I feel overwhelmed by the madness around me, remind me that with you, all things are possible. I can let down my guard because You are the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow; and the advice that was given so long ago to the apostles still stands true against the trials and tribulations that I face today.
Lord, increase my faith, especially when a mustard seed seems so much bigger than it really is.