i don’t feel like i have much to say these days. mostly i draw. unlike a few weeks ago, i don’t feel angry or crushed, just resigned, and i find myself putting one foot in front of the other without thinking too much about where i’m going.
we spent the week following the sad ultrasound mostly glued to the couch, waiting for something scary and painful to happen, and when, after nine tense days, it didn’t, i warily started taking the miscarriage-inducing pills on the date the my doctor’s replacement told me to. Continue reading
nearly four months ago, Froggy and i started our monthly drives to Belgium, that magic land to the northeast where we are allowed access to reproductive care. as we’d done over a year before, we got up in the dark hours before dawn and drove the three hundred kilometers to our midday rendezvous with a syringe and some of little sun’s donor’s genetic material. i’d already spent months trying to get my body and mind to a better, healthier place, and in the week leading up to the insemination, i would inject myself daily with a drug that stimulated my ovaries. after a few days of that, i would begin the blood draws, usually every other day. finally, i would go to my gynecologist and have an ultrasound to see how many follicles i had and if they were ready to be ovulated. if everything looked good, i would give myself another shot to trigger ovulation, and then 36-38 hours later, we’d be back in a hospital in Belgium, hoping that conception was about to take place. Continue reading