It's cool and rainy today; in my neck of the woods, the hot, hot weather is probably gone for the season. The pic shows our doggie enjoying a refreshing dip in her baby pool as summer temps soared.
The pup is just 7 — still a baby to us! — but she is aging. For her breed and size she's on the cusp of senior status.
I can relate to that. My family tends to thrive into their 90s, and by that measure I am still a young woman. I feel young. But reproductively speaking, I am old. Who knows, maybe I never did fit into the "young" category, reproductively speaking.
DH and I have taken a little time to determine our next steps on the TTC front. Not too much time, though. We've stayed aware that my fertility is declining at the speed of dog years. (Don't get me wrong. DH's fertility ain't exactly on the upswing either, but mine is the more crucial factor at present.) As Dr. K told me, I'm on a hill going down; I'm not yet on a cliff about to get shoved off. So we're still in the game . . . for the NOW that keeps slipping away all too quickly.
One of our recent talks was sparked by a mutual noting of all the subtle age-related changes to the dog's features, gait, and demeanor. It's soooo painfully sweet to watch those changes evolve in contrast to her eternally youthful attitude. She's older, but she will never "grow up" all the way. She still trusts us to address all her basic needs, acts greedy for treats, takes joy from snatching bees from the air and finding squeakers in her toys, and — remarkably — keeps walking or running (best fun EVER!) through any pain from stray thorns, bloody scrapes, or arthritic joints. This creature lives in the moment. She seizes her chances. She enjoys current opportunity — and expects it in the future — regardless of past disappointments (read: never enough treats).
In that spirit, we've decided to do one more round of IVF with my eggs. It's what we want, and I'm done feeling guilty about it.
Hey, it has worked before. As DH says, "We were on our way." And Dr. K assures us it's NOT unreasonable to assume there's a golden egg for the hatching. We probably even had a good embryo last time, but chance and the many mysteries of life caused an abnormal one to implant.
We can't and won't try indefinitely. We do, however, feel strong enough for one more whirl.
I read this quote from Erica Jong the other day:
"No one ever found wisdom without also being a fool. Writers, alas, have to be fools in public, while the rest of the human race can cover its tracks."
I thought about just sharing the first sentence for this post. (I am a writer and relate to the second from that POV, but this blog's not about that.) But then I realized, no, the whole dang thing applies beautifully . . . all you have to do is switch out "writers" in favor of "couples seeking to conceive using ART." And/or, of course "bloggers."