So I went and visited my friend Lauren in the hospital yesterday. She had her 7.5 baby boy and he was the cutest little peanut. I went in, held him for a while, rubbed her feet and listened to the long and exciting story of how the little monkey came to be. I was fine up until the lactation nurse came in. She was so sweet, attentive, informative, and even funny. I got teared up listening to her take Lauren through the whole processs because it hit me that I really actually may never lay in a hospital bed, hold my new baby, and listen to a lactation nurse take me through breastfeeding. With intralipids less than a week away, I can't help but feel a calm like "all is well" and it's the magic potion and solution. But what if it isn't? It would be just my luck to have gone in to my doctor with pages of tests to ask him about, only to have him reject all of them, go through the entire IL process and not get pregnant. THEN we'll find out something else is wrong.
I'm pretty over the whole pregnancy lust anyway. Of course I want a baby, but it is so freakin' exhausting going through the pain, the loss, and then seeing the countless pregnant women and new babies everywhere. Of course I had to see a woman being wheeled out with her newborn leaving the hospital right as I walked in yesterday. Of course. I saw three more pregnant women in the lobby. It's never-ending. So it's utterly exhausting.
I'm ready to get infused. I'm ready to see if it works and I am SO ready to finally see a positive pregnancy test again.