Sunday, September 27, 2009

Hearing the quiet - Donor update

update: Cl called. Donor is triggering tonight. I go in tomorrow am at 645am (dear lord that's early) and go to the private' section (you mean the other end of the waiting room) and say 'embryo blood' to the receptionist.

exited and still peaceful. I am liking this, liking it a lot.
Since I didn't sleep last night (cough cough cough) DH decided it was a good day for me to do NADA. I concur.
By 9am I had cleaned and tidied the apartment and DH was at work. I was looking for things to do when I realised that I wasn't supposed to be 'doing'.

I made the bed and opened up the windows so I could hear the rain . The cats came wondering in a few minutes later. Fat cat jumped on the bed and inelegantly flumped down. Thin cat circled the soft rug a few times and gently folded himself into a sleeping ball, with one paw over his nose and eyes.
I had read somewhere that black coffee helps a cough so I made one small cup of glorious blue door coffee and went back to our bedroom to sit back on the bed. Our apartment is in the middle of NYC. Our bedroom could be in the middle of the countryside. All I heard all morning was the Church Bells (which remind me of my home country) and the occasional pigeon landing on the window ledges.

Fat cat snored and flipped upside down. Thin cat yowled in his sleep. Bells sang gently to me and the rain encouraged me to sit tight and enjoy my book.
I haven't felt this peaceful for a very long time. I imagined myself 12 months from now, with a baby basket on the bed, tired from no sleep but enjoying the silence too much to take a nap. Fear emerged, nagging me with premonitions of failure but I tried to pay it no mind. It's true, it hasn't happened yet and might not happen this time but it's also equally true that it might happen. I have found a place inside me that is free from the guilt of infertility. Free from the shame of 'not being able'. It's not happiness or utopia. I am balanced with the work I have done and the work I want to be able to do. It's a very simple place that is very hard to find.


  1. Sounds like a glorious day of relaxation!

  2. I love your last paragraph.

    Stay right there, in that place.

    I'll be thinking of you tomorrow.


  3. What a wonderful place you have found in your heart. I hope that you are there in 12 months, tired and happy with your new family. Best wishes for tomorrow's appointment.

  4. What a lovely, beautifully descriptive post. I felt like I was in an overstuffed chair in the corner of your room, lounging with a book, a cup of tea and a chenille blanket. Sweet. I'm glad you've found this peaceful spot to be and to relax and to BELIEVE.

    Hooray for tonight's trigger and good luck tomorrow!! I thought that since you are going to the "private" corner of the clinic, you might wear a long trench coat, dark glasses and fedora hat.

    Finally, thank you for your kind and supportive words on my blog. I absolutely appreciate your thoughts.

  5. Lovely post- like BWUB I felt like I was there all serene with you. Thinking positive thoughts for tomorrow and beyond:)

  6. in the moment of reading your post, I felt that peace. thank you for sharing it.

  7. T,
    Wonderful post. Good luck tomorrow and don't forget to whisper "Swordfish" to the lady at the window!

  8. So excited for you - only a few hours til you go in! Does your DH go with you at that early hour? All very cloak and dagger, hope you have a great story to share with lots of eggies in it.