A decision

It was Monday evening at the Crossroads Inn. I made spinach and black bean enchiladas for dinner. D. and I were chatting amiably about something; I don't remember what. And then he mentioned our infertility. Usually my ears perk up, as do any infertile woman's, when my husband actually initiates a conversation about infertility. But I just nodded, a little tired.

"This is getting really sad," D. said.

"I'm so sad," I said softly. "I feel hopeless. I'm almost to the end of my rope."

"I'm already there," he replied.

We paused and looked at each other for a long moment. And then I said it: "Then we should stop."

He nodded slowly. "Yeah. I think so, too."

I felt a weight fall from my shoulders, and our conversation became more natural and bittersweet than any I've ever known. We talked quietly about our frustrations and our losses. How sad it is to have reached this point, where hope and fear have become one and the same. How hard it will be to walk away. But walk away we shall.

We've agreed to try one more IUI. And that will be the end of treatment. We aren't going to do IVF. I will cancel my COBRA insurance with its partial coverage of one IVF cycle. Maybe we'll continue trying on our own for awhile, or not. I'd like to adopt, and D. is open to it, but we need to save money and energy for that journey. Maybe the 4th IUI will work. I'm not sure of much of anything from here on out, except that we can't go on living like this.

We talked about these things on Monday evening and then a different sort of weight returned to my shoulders. I sat at the table with my head bowed, rather sad, somewhat relieved, in mourning.

Later, I poured myself a glass of wine and joined D. on the front porch, where he was sitting with Sadie and watching the sunset. The sky was striped in garish shades of apricot and lavender. The colors were a little weird, but somehow, they worked.

Comments

[Pam]

I'm sorry you guys had to come to that decision. It's a difficult one to make, but obviously, from your reaction to it, it was the right one. I'm hope that when you're able to move forward financially and emotionally, that the adoption route is quick and easy. Take it easy and enjoy the rest of the summer together.

[beagle]

I read sadness here, but also peace and some hope for the future. I admre the strength that it took to make this decision and it's good that you are on the same page.

My hope for you both is that you find your way to parenthood without all the pain of treatment or that you find happiness as a family of two plus Sadie of course.

In the meantime I will keep my fingers crossed for your IUI (and my own)!

[Mel]

What a beautiful post. It's exactly what I was discussing this morning--how you know when it's time to stop. Or pause. Or change direction. It's so hard because sometimes it becomes like gambling, you keep thinking, "oh, maybe this time. Maybe this time it will work." And it's dangerous. Dangerous for your emotions, your financial situation, your health. So I'm wishing you much strength during the mourning process. And hope that a new path will open before you.

[Flutter]

I've known you for such a short time. But, I admire your strength as well as your husband's.

Praying that the fourth and final will be the Golden ticket.

If not, do take your time and mourn, but your adopted child will be truly blessed to have you as their mom.

[Marcia]

That's a big decision, sweetheart. And a big weight off your shoulders.

I'm happy you've made a decision that has lifted a weight off your shoulders.

I want to give you a big hug. And a few bottles of wine.

[Marcia]

I mentioned the shoulders thing twice. Forget that.

But you know, all I want is you to be happy. :)

[sube]

Oh, the tears in my eyes. I hope this decision brings you peace.

[SouthernComfortable]

Oh, honey. Go, go, go read Barren Mare's post today. I think . . . I hope . . . I pray . . . that you'll find there is so much LIFE to be lived apart from the TTC not-so-merry-go-round. We all want you to be happy. Hell, we all want all of us who are going through this to be happy. I hope you find peace and joy.

[Serenity]

Oh, E. I am SO sorry you had to make this decision. I hope, though, that this brings you both a measure of peace.

Hugs, love, and strength to you.

[Amy]

E, this is one of the most touching blog entries I've read. Your strength amazes me! Best of luck on the 4th IUI and in whatever comes your way!

[annmarie]

I am proud of you guys for making a choice and being able to recognize what is right for you. It is not a sad decision, this is a positive one, a new beginning. We can walk the road together...

[Donna]

I just found you via BarrenMare...we came to the same decision about a year ago and decided not to pursue adoption. There is life on the other side, but it does take time and some of the sadness (unfortunately) will always be with you. Take care.

[thalia]

Sounds like a liberating decision, I'm glad you both have taken the time to decide what's best for you. Very very hard, but it sounds as if you feel relieved, which is a good sign.

[teamwinks]

It sounds strangely familiar. Me only two weeks ago. Thank you for reminding me, that my husband and I aren't alone.

[Stacie]

I came over here from Stirrup Queen. What a beautiful, heartfelt post. Thank you for sharing this.

[Adrienne]

What a hard decision to make, and hard to speak of so openly to each other. Your relationship is so obviously strong, and I'm glad this choice lifted a burden for you. Life should be as much joy as possible.