A lot of people use the metaphor of a roller coaster when talking about infertility. There are highs, and there are lows. It is more similar to Space Mountain where you are in the dark, and you have no idea when the next drop or turn is going to come. You are constantly braced for it, waiting for it.
This week has been a drop. I feel my whole body going numb. I feel overwhelmed. I’m full of despair. Of grief. A sea of emotions that are pulling me down into depression and I’m too tired right now to fight.
We have been receiving estimates on adoption. They are well over $30K. We have to take classes, make an upbeat smiley book of our life, and then pay someone to scrutinize our entire life and deem us worthy.
We have two consultations next week with different doctors to line out more testing. I’ve been trying not to think of it since the notion of more tests, more invasive probes, more needles, and more heartache causes me to panic.
I feel as if we are in a no-win situation. We are going to spend every penny and use all the emotional strength we have, and maybe, just maybe we will get a child. At that point, though, what will be left of us?