It would be a miracle…

When you think about, it would be a total miracle. I mean, I know science has done everything possible to optimise the chances – I’ve been given hormones to optimise the development of my eggs; my thyroid function has been checked and tweaked; the – one assumes – weakest eggs will have been weeded out by the freezing and defrosting process; I’ve not just got any old sperm but sperm that has been rigorously – I hope – health-checked; and nobody’s left it to chance that this sperm will fertilise the eggs, it’s going to be injected into them; I’m taking hormones to try to make my body an even more receptive environment for an embryo – when it comes to getting all the ducks in a row, science has worked pretty damn hard.

(Yes, there’s obviously other stuff it could do – things like embryoscopes (basically CCTV for embryos that track their development and pick up any potential abnormalities) and endometrial scratches to assist the embryo in embedding itself in the womb, and many other things that I’m not thinking about now.)

But despite the fact that I believe in science, there’s obviously a large part of me that is screaming “you have never in the whole of your nearly 40 years on this planet, ever actively tried to get pregnant before, why would you think that you could do it first time around? What have you ever nailed first time around?” (Actually now I come to think of it there are a couple of things, but you know what I mean.)

And then I have to take a breath, and think “this isn’t all on you, in fact it’s mostly not on you, you’ve put your faith in people for whom this is most definitely not their first rodeo, you have to trust that they know what they’re doing, as hard as it may be for you to do this, control freak that you are, you have to accept that there’s nothing you can do right now.”

So that’s what I’m trying to do, one day at a time.

 

 

 

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