peace

So, the twins officially turned one last week.  One.  It's been a whole year since I nuzzled them inside, since I was the only one who felt their every kick and squirm.  To be honest, in the days leading up to their birthday, I got nervous.  Nervous that they were growing to fast, of course, but also nervous about the franticness I was beginning to feel.  As their birthday loomed, my desire to have another biological child, to be pregnant again, started eating away at me.  I could feel the obsession coming back.  The compulsive behaviors, the thoughts from which I never seemed to get a break.  I was afraid that once this huge milestone passed, these feelings would only get worse.

But then I did something I haven't done since the twins were tiny. I took a drive during nap time.  I loaded my son and daughter in the backseat, and while they slept peacefully, I drove and listened to their lullabies.  I drove through the beautiful sunshine; past cornfields and soybeans, sustenance growing from the ground; past windmills, energy being created before my eyes.  And I found it.  I found peace.  I was finally able to say to myself that if we never have another biological child, that is okay.  If I never feel a little one kick in my womb again, that is okay.

I feel selfish even writing this...I have a son and a daughter, how much more could I want?  But a big family has always been the plan.  And when infertility wreaked havoc on that plan, it was devastating.  Further, I would love to have a more traditional birth experience.  I still grieve the twins' birthday in the sense that I didn't get to hold them.  In fact, I didn't even get to touch them in the delivery room.  No kiss.  No nuzzle.  No physical contact.

So we will do a frozen cycle with our one remaining embryo.  And we will fervently pray that he or she makes his way to us.  But I am thankful to be moving towards a place where the alternative to a positive FET is somewhat less scary.