Choices

Choices. Most people have choices. Chicken or Steak? Cat or Dog? Skirt or Pants? Other choices are more profound. Where should I move? What job should I accept? What house do we buy?

And then, there are the choices that aren't really choices. What do I mean? Well, the choices like "Do I treat my illness with medication or surgically?" "Do I want this divorce attorney or that one?" Choices that are about anything but choosing.

Do I want to go through this fertility treatment or not? Is this worth it? Am I making the right choice?

I don’t talk to a lot of people about our babymaking issues. In fact, I could count them on one hand, even if I’d had a horrid shop class accident leaving me with just two fingers. Well, I write about them occasionally here, but I’m talking like, actually completely talking about my “feelings” talking about it… you know, if I had feelings:-)

I go through this cycle of thought sometimes where I start to question the choice we’re making. Usually it starts during a Dr’s appointment, like when I’m in the middle of what feels like my five hundredth internal ultrasound (seriously… I’ve given the wand a name… we’re that close)… when my arms are black and blue because apparently I’m harder to get blood from than the proverbial turnip… (seriously, the nurses draw straws when I walk in the door)… or when I start thinking about money as “treatment” currency… (as in, the electric bill this month was one vial of Follistim… my student loan this month was three-fourths of one Ovidrel syringe, etc)

Then, I get angry because I tell myself that this isn’t a choice… that if this was a choice, I’d be knee-deep in dirty diapers by now. If this was a choice, I’d be choosing baby names, not naming the very cold ultrasound wand that, if it were a gentleman, would have bought me like, 100 dinners by now.

The choice that is about anything but choosing.

In reality though, I have a choice. We could do nothing. Remain childless. I’m not in the state of mind where that is even registering as remotely okay, so scratch that. We could adopt. There are multiple barriers to that for us right now… not least of which being my job that prevents us from fostering (just our preferred method of adoption… but to each his own), and a whole wide range of fears, most of which are too personal to get in to here.

So, where does that leave me at the moment?

With my feet in the stirrups, questioning my own sanity, wishing I had the guts sometimes just to get off this stupid roller coaster… but, the thought of getting off is just as scary as staying on. Nice choices.