Until then…

I've felt quiet lately. I don't quite know what that's about. Maybe it's because Chance and I are in an indefinite holding phase. I don't yet have many of the weighty emotions and profound, philosophical thoughts that come along with cycling. I know they're there waiting, though, like the propped scene and posed actors behind the closed velvet curtains of a stage. Hopefully opening night will be sooner rather than later and the wait to get started won't carry on for any longer than it has to.

Waiting. Not that this concept is a glorious revelation to any of you, but "wait" carries so much weight when you're trying to build a family, and this wait and weight is both longer and heavier if you're dealing with infertility and/or loss. We wait to see in what fresh ways our body is going to screw with us. We wait for raises or refinances or shared risk approvals. We wait for approvals and home studies and the call. We wait for triggers and retrievals and stims and ultrasounds, for IUI's and transfers and for BF?'s. We wait for heartbeats. For continued growth. We hold our breaths and wait to see if it's going to end the same way it did before or by some other stroke of misfortune's bleak paintbrush. We are forced to wait for one step before we can even entertain the thought of the next step. Or the next. Or the next. We wait for answers to questions for which there are no answers. How? When? Why? Why me?

We wait for healing. For peace. Holding our breaths, we wait to see if this time is the time when the world will start righting itself again.

We wait for someone to hold our hands and say, I am here to wait with you.

We wait for the wait to be over and for the weight to feel lighter.

Chance had a brilliant idea which came to her in a dream, and I nearly cried with the beauty of it. It felt like heart-to-heart connection – with myself, with her and Apollo, and with you. Since then, she's been hard at work pulling the pieces of it together so that she can share it with all of you. You don't yet know what I'm talking about, but you will.

You just have to wait for it.

In the meantime, tell me what you're waiting for. On any given day we're all waiting for something. How deep you want to go is up to you. Are you waiting for a call from the clinic? To laugh again? For the rain to start? For the water for your tea to boil? For the next kick from within and your resulting sigh of relief? For inspiration? Today, what are you waiting for?

16 thoughts on “Until then…”

  1. You hit it perfectly. I am waiting, holding my breath, trying to focus on life because it slips by fast and you can’t just sit on the sidelines watching and waiting.
    I can’t wait to hear about the new idea!

  2. I’m waiting for AF to show so I can schedule surgery, so we can decide on IVF. On top of it all, I’m waiting to find out if my last hurrah will work. If only I had a time machine……
    And yes, waiting to smile, and really smile!

  3. I am waiting for the two lines that bring renewed hope that the cycle of life continues, that tomorrow is always a new day, and that hope continues with the beginning of another generation.

  4. I am trying to wait for monday but will more than likely not make it to sat to pee on my first stick since my 3rd transfer.

  5. Oh Moxie – where do you get all the brilliant ideas in your head? The fact that waiting is sometimes like having everything positioned, actors behind the curtain like you said is so true! What a perfect way to put it. Waiting does suck. I hope soon everyone gets to move forward out of this waiting stage with you and everyone involved.
    Hmm – what am I waiting for? I’m waiting either to get to meet Brynn sometime soon – or to be able to go home for 7 more weeks and have a term baby 🙂

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