Choices

I had an interesting discussion with a good friend today and I had a couple of revelations. Or at least what seem to be revelations. I have too much experience with waffling about how I feel on this infertility road to fully commit to any idea that hasn't withstood the test of time.

The first thing that struck me is that I really am doing quite well adjusting to - even embracing - the use of donor eggs. Not that I don't have my moments of sadness. Actually, my moments of sadness are also moments of hope. It has all been very confusing at times. I recently told Brad that I feel like crying, but I am too happy. As I was trying to explain all these conflicting feelings to my friend, I sorted out that I am doing quite well and I feel guilty about it.

Sounds crazy, doesn't it? I could understand if we were talking about donor sperm. It would make sense to feel guilty about being more excited to have a baby than sad about my husband losing his chance for genetic offspring, but how can I feel guilty for not feeling bad enough about my own genetic component? Maybe it is similar to running a race. This is a very important race and I am going to cross that finish line no matter what it takes. But the finish line keeps moving farther and farther away and I am getting more and more weary. "I can do it", I tell myself. "Just keep going . . . one more step, one more try." And then someone (actually many someones) comes along and offers to help me make it over that line. I am grateful for the assistance, but then I wonder, "Is it cheating? Does it still count if I have help? Could I make it on my own if I just try a little bit longer?"

I have an answer to those questions. They are: No; Yes; and Maybe, but I am ok if I never find out. These answers may not be inherently true, but is my choice to believe in them.

There is another choice I have made today. It is a choice I hope will feel as good tomorrow as it does tonight. Here is how that choice unfolded:

While I was talking with my friend I wondered when I would feel like the child (if we are fortunate enough to get pregnant and have a baby) was mine. Would it be sometime during the pregnancy? After the child is born? Will it feel weird to visualize the embryo implanting in my uterus knowing that the embryo was not from and of me? "Why not just decide?", my friend asked.

She used the right words because it reminded me of the day I knew I would spend the rest of my life with Brad and it is a story I love to tell. We dated for a long time mostly because I was afraid of ending up in an unhappy marriage. I knew that Brad was capable of loving me forever, but I wasn't sure I could stay in love with him. Then one day while I was in the Peace Corps, about four months since I had last seen him and five years since our first date, it occurred to me that I could decide that he was the love of my life. I could just commit fully to being in love with Brad - forever. In a split second all my doubts about staying in love where gone. It was just that easy.

So why can't I just decide that the embryos would be my children? Heck, why not just decide that the eggs are mine too. What a nice thought . . . Belinda currently incubating a bunch of follicles on the cusp of growing my eggs which will lead to our embryos. At transfer, they will be our embryos that I will visualize snuggling in for an eight and a half month stay. So tonight I make that choice. I just wonder how Belinda will feel when she finds out she is walking around with my eggs. I think she would be ok with it.