I clear my plate before most people have had time to salt their potato. I read spoiler alerts to see how the series of whatever my current Netflix marathon ends. I skim the last few sentences of a novel before I start it. I convinced Michael to give me my Christmas present on December 10th. I get mad when a diet/fitness plan doesn't show results in like, two days. I bumped up our wedding date so that we were married in October instead of January,and I literally stare at the clock sometimes until it tells me I can go home.
I want what I want when I want it, dang it. And for the most part, I get it---food, information, presents, marital bliss....gimmegimmegimme.
Oh, but there is that one thing that is completely out of my control... a baby.
When I first started this regime of the fertility pill cocktail, I read on one of the many fertility forums I followed that someone with my exact treatment plan got pregnant in "just four cycles!"
Now you'd think that this, being something I've wanted my whole life, would be good news for me---someone who had been trying for 2.5 years without success. But four cycles is 4 months and that seemed pretty much like the longest wait ever. So I decided I would get pregnant on our first post-drug try. Oh sweet, naive, (and let's be real, a little greedy) pre-infertility medicated Kelsey. Little did I know that the fertility gig ain't nothing but a waiting game.
You wait to start your period. (By taking a pack of pills that makes the magic happen after 11 days.) You wait for the doctor appointment where the doctor checks your little eggies and tells you if there are any ripe ones. You wait for the ovulation tests to give you a smiley face. And then the worst wait of all comes, the "two week wait" before you are allowed to pee on a stick. (Which I've already admitted to you, I can't handle waiting until little Ms. Period is supposed to come and alwaysalwaysalways fall into temptation by way of testing early.)
Time practically summersaults backwards during this process, and when you finally get your negative pregnancy test, you repeat the whole tedious process. (Isn't the definition of insanity doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results?)
I can't say the reason why Heavenly Father has given so many people the trial of infertility, but I do feel like I know why He gave it to me. In these few but long months I've learned a sincere lesson in patience.
And the process has been slow.
There is no skipping ahead. There is no spoiler alert detailing what is to come our way. I've tried to rush the process, but it is God partnered with science, a dynamite duo that simply can NOT be tricked into giving you answers sooner than what you think you deserve. I've learned the hard way that keeping my eye on the calendar while tapping my foot impatiently does nothing good to this process. It doesn't make it better, it just kind of drives me crazy.
So instead of standing at the start of every cycle with dread, I feel a new sense of hope (so call me insane, I guess!) that this time might be THE time, but with more trust that the Lord will help me out when the time is perfectly perfect for me. The anxious feelings have subsided and been replaced with a hopeful and bright perspective, and the term someday doesn't make me want to punch anyone in the face. And best of all, I've been able to cherish these amazingly light-hearted and spur-of-the-moment babyless days with Michael, because I know without a doubt that I will miss them.
While I am so very far from perfect in the patient category, it is something that I am working on, and will continue to work on, every single day. So here's to one of my biggest flaws s l o w l y turning into a strength. And in the mean time, I will take advice from the beloved President Thomas S. Monson,
"Let us relish life as we live it, find joy in the journey and share our love with friends and family. One day, each of us will run out of tomorrows. Let us not put off what is most important."
Cheers to all!
Kelsey
