Despite the calm feelings that I'm experiencing early on in IVF #2, I've been a complete basket case today.
It all started because I started researching into adoption statistics - something I'm not going to allow myself to do any more. It's not because I don't want to adopt (because I would, in a heartbeat); it's because the Australian system for adoptions is completely soul destroying, and I honestly don't know if I could endure it. I watched a few documentaries on US inter-country adoptions & got in a complete funk, seeing how 'easy' their adoptions are, seeing how many couples are able to adopt newborns (newborns!) and realising that I just can't do that here.
Then I got into a mad panic, seeing myself childless and barren and not having any of our IVF treatments work. And then, then I got mad. I got mad, because all of a sudden, I didn't want to live in Australia. I wanted to move somewhere else, anywhere else, where raising a child is attainable, whatever the costs.
I researched Canada. I researched America. And I researched moving back to London, our home away from home. I looked at apartments, I looked at jobs. I looked at patient-cost IVF programs in the city. I looked at adopting as an ex-pat. It's silly; I know. I was quite literally researching the price involved of transporting our three fur-babies back to England, before Hubby basically told me that it was too late; we're in it here for the long haul.
You guys, I felt so guilty. He's been miserable since moving back here to Australia, missing his friends, missing the London lifestyle, missing the financial/career perks he had while we lived abroad. And we moved back, largely because of me. Because I wanted to start a family in Australia, because I wanted the house with the backyard and the dog. Because he loved me. And now, here we are - stuck in your typical rut, with a mortgage, with unfulfilling careers, and not even having the children we so desperately wanted and moved back for.
It's like this whole mess is my fault, and I wonder if it was worth it. If we can't have children, if being parents is not on the cards for us, did we throw away our lives in London for nothing?
And then I slapped myself silly a few times, because I'm getting ahead of myself. We're still only at the beginning of our second IVF round, and I know families who went through many more before they were gifted their take home baby. But when will we draw the line? When will we decide that we've done enough invasive procedures, waited too long, paid enough money for no results? And when we draw that line, will I have the same feelings of regret - that we could have stayed, happy in England, as a professional, child-less couple, and saved us all the heartache of the last few years?
I don't know. I really don't. All I know is that I'm the type of person who needs to have a plan in place, and I feel so hopelessly out of control right now.