I'm starting to have second thoughts about trying again. I blame it on the finances, my brakes are squealing, I need new tires, my garbage disposal just died, gas is $3.91 a gallon here, and I just found out that dear son's daycamp this summer is $115 dollars/week. And those are all really, really good reasons to spend the money on something else. But, is that really why I want to chicken out? Or is it that I'm TERRIFIED of another failure and after all, I only have one left. The odds of one tiny little frozen embryo surviving the thaw and making it to a live delivery is so slim under the best of circumstance, let alone being one of five when the other four have already failed.
I was reading the local paper on Saturday. There is alway a religious column each week. This weeks was entitled "Sometimes God Says No". It had nothing to do with infertility, actually he was talking about a shuttle launch. But it has really got me thinking. If I could silence my heart and biological clock that is screaming, "TRY, TRY AGAIN" would I hear the faint whisper of God saying "no". It seems unthinkable, but is God trying to tell me this is not His plan? I've prayed and prayed about it. What path, what direction am I supposed to take? How do I know?
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Donor embryos can work!!
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Dylan Thomas
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Dylan Thomas
1 comment:
I don't know what the answer is, and I wouldn't dare pretend to know what God's plan is for anyone. I think you're doing the right thing (and the only thing you can do) by praying about it. I hope you come to an answer that you feel at peace with. Lots of love to you and the guys.
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