cycles of hope

It's been a little over a week since my surgery, and physically I'm feeling just fine. Had the stitches out Friday, was told to hold off on BD for two weeks, and that was that. The tissue they removed turned out to be benign, but I wasn't really worried. New game plan is to try naturally for two cycles, then move on to injectibles and IUI.

So I have a couple of weeks until we start trying again. I'm not sure how I feel about this. Since our IUI in February, we've pretty much been taking a break because of all the testing and procedures I've been going through. And the break has been nice – no temping, no POAS, no charting, nothing. No crying when AF shows, no caring when or if I ovulate. No worrying or obsessing or riding that cycle of high hopes and crushing devastation.

Now, we have two months to try on our own. I don't think my heart could take much more than two cycles before moving on to something more proactive. But I'm feeling the pressure, and I'm not sure I'm ready for this.

July marks the first month of the third year of TTC. It has been a long and difficult road. My BFF once wisely told me that I would need to learn to pace myself, that this is a marathon and not a sprint. I feel as though I've had a breather for these past few months, a much needed breather. But now I'm looking at running again, and I am just so damn tired. Can't I just sit here in the shade a little longer? Do I really have to get up and start moving again?

Ultimately, the choice is up to me. Yes, I can sit here as long as I want to. No one is standing beside me with a cattle prod, forcing me to put one foot in front of the other. But the race isn't over yet, and I'll never get to the finish line if I stay here. And though the end isn't in sight yet, it just might be around the next bend.

Which is what terrifies me. I don't mind trying again, I don't mind the daily peeing on sticks or the charting of CM. I'm afraid, because part of me believes that this just might actually happen for us now. And I've learned from experience that every time I think that, and every time it doesn't happen, I am crushed. Devastated. Puddle of tears, stay in bed all day, can't face the world at all depressed.

That same friend also once told me that I have to open my heart up to hope. It's a delicate balance, one that two years hasn't taught me, to have hope that doesn't turn into despair. But the hope is there already, I can't help it. It sneaked in the second the doctor said that maybe this polyp was the only thing standing in our way. It didn't dissipate when he reminded me that a normal, healthy couple TTC only has a 20% chance of conceiving each cycle. It didn't go away when he said the step after injectibles and IUI would be IVF. I heard "there's a chance," and my heart opened up. And all this fear and trepidation doesn't change that – hope sneaked in.

So now we wait. And start Year Three with a new reproductive cycle, and a new cycle of hope.