Just this morning, I was pondering my failed IUI procedure. The disappointment is still there, but it’s eased a bit. I was forcing myself to look at the bright side of this situation, and actually found there was one.
There are two types of good fathers in this world: born-fathers (who desire a baby from the beginning and whose heart breaks as much, or more, than their wife’s when it doesn’t happen) and love-at-first-sight fathers (The guy who knows he wants to be a dad someday, but the burning desire is lessened. It doesn’t completely click until the situation is actually at hand.)
Ryan fits into this second group of guys; so did his dad and his grandpa. All were excellent fathers, but were born without that raw emotion the first group experiences before the baby is even conceived. At first, I fought this and longed for Ryan to be in that first group. I felt so alone. Although he was there for support, I was the one carrying all the emotion. It felt like going into a lion’s cage. He was there to talk me through it from the outside looking in, but I was the only one fighting the beast.
Then one day he said something that stuck with me. If he were exactly like me, we would be two people falling apart. Who would be the strong one?
Fast-forward to this last cycle…
There is that time in a woman's cycle between the time you ovulate and the time you either start your next cycle or find out your pregnant. In the world of infertility, this is called the 2WW (two week wait). This 2WW is agonizing, as the looming possibility of pregnancy is incredibly difficult to ignore. In the 3 ½ years since we began thinking baby (that's about 45 cycles, mind you) during every two week wait, I would bring up the question, "I wonder if it happened this month?" Every single time, without fail, Ryan would say it didn't happen. So, this last month when I asked and he said "yes", I was shocked! He truly believed I was pregnant this time.
So when I wasn’t, he was stunned, and a little disappointed. I am not sure if his disappointment was a surprise to him, but it certainly was to me. Since that time, I have noticed small changes in him. He has now set a timeline for how we will proceed with this burden. I am not saying he is crying with me; the change has been subtle but it’s there. He seems a little more comfortable talking about the situation, which made this whole thing almost worth it. Almost…
This reflection, along with the knowledge that there are other options which we are both comfortable with, has lightened the load and brought a new batch of optimism and motivation that was desperately needed. For this hurdle, he will be the strong one. There will be other times when I will be strong, but for right now I will let him hold me up.