I’ve told several people in the past week that I fully expect our upcoming gonadotropin and IUI cycle to fail. There’s absolutely no medical reason for me to think we’ll fail. 99% of women respond to gonadotropins, according to my doctors, and they tell us that IUI raises our chances of conception about 10% above the old fashioned way. So the likelihood that it will work is pretty high.
But if I let myself believe that it might work then my heart will be broken if it doesn’t….again. And if I let that happen, then I have to let myself look at all the reasons why. And if I let myself look at all the reasons why….well, I just can’t even bear that again. So it’s easier to tell myself that it won’t work, so that when it doesn’t I can say “see I told you so”.
But when Cycle Day 1 arrived on Sunday, quietly and with no more than a whimper….something happened. A teeny, tiny little green shoot of hope appeared. As I sat in church on Sunday and prayed for a baby, I had a tiny little belief in my heart that God might just grant my request. There’s a chance it’ll work. Maybe I’ll get to be someone’s mama by next year.
I can let myself hope, just a tiny little bit. It’s scary, but it feels okay. New cycles are like spring — little green buds that are in danger of frost. So easily destroyed, but just as easily successful. I haven’t felt any hope in this process in about six months, so it’s a nice thing to feel now. If this works, it will be all God. Via modern medicine and doctors, yes, but the will of God nonetheless. I’m just trusting Him to know best.