Sunday Contentments – The next phase of my life

It’s been an odd week. Everybody’s been sick with something – flu, cold, walking pneumonia. Then school was closed for Veterans Day and then it rained so damned hard school stayed closed for 2 more days, so I had the screaming meemies running amok in the house for 3 days straight. I couldn’t even get to my doctor’s appointment on Friday morning because some roads between my home and the doctor’s office were flooded out. Ugh. I’m tired, I’ve got lousy post-nasal drip, and I’m all out of sorts. So what do I have to be content about?

A lot of things, actually. And one very big thing in particular. This may sound like a strange thing to be content about, but I found out Friday that after three months of fertility treatments, I am not pregnant. And you know what? I’m good with that. Disappointed, yes. Hubster and I really do want to have another child. We had hoped that the treatments that had allowed us to have Princess and then Pixie would work one more time. They did not. We don’t know why. Everything looked like it should have worked, but for some reason this time around things didn’t go as hoped for.

Again, I am okay with this. Why? Because it means I am finally done with that phase of my life, the time when I struggle to achieve what comes so naturally for most other women. Ten years ago it was a real kick in the teeth to find out that in order to get pregnant I had to undergo expensive and invasive procedures that might or might not work. It was frustrating and painful, and at the time, it was devastating to deal with. Not so much now though. I went through those procedures twice and came out with two beautiful children. And I knew going into it this time that things might not work out. I am forty after all. There is a definite time limit on these sorts of things.

So yes, I am content to be done with this phase of my life. I am content that I will no longer have to spend 3 hours a day, 3 or more days a week, driving back and forth to the doctor’s office for blood tests and ultrasounds. I am content that I will no long have to inject myself with fertility drugs for days on end. I am content that I will not spend days in bed sick as a dog because my ovaries are so swollen and painful I can’t even sit upright. I am content that I will cease to put on 5 or more pounds overnight because those same medications that make me so ill also pack on the water weight like nobody’s business. And I am content that I will never again have to stress over that same awful question near the end of each cycle; am I pregnant this time, or not?

I am escaping what was once my own personal hell. On the upside of things, I am very content to know that I can now move on to other plans. Since I am not pregnant, I can now say yes to certain projects that I would have had to have turned down with a baby on the way. There are novels I know I will have more time to write, paying work I can take on because I won’t have to worry about taking time off nine months down the road. I can get back to a regular work schedule this week and get current projects back on track. And best of all, after the holidays Hubster and I can start looking into adoption because yes, we still plan to have that third child.

The last ten years of my life have been defined by my body’s ability, or lack thereof, to produce offspring. I am finally free of all that. And while this didn’t end in the result I had hoped for, I’ve got to say, it still feels pretty good. In fact, it feels like contentment.

Enjoy the rest of your Sunday, everyone.