Duh duh duh duh duh

Two years ago, I had just gotten a negative after our third IVF, and a strong suggestion from my doctor that we should abandon my eggs and "seek closure."

One year ago, at Tertia's behest, I had just taken the only photo in existence that shows me visibly pregnant.

Today, I sat on the floor in the den with Charlie as he played with the remote control. When the phone rang, I got up to get it, then returned to the floor with the cordless handset held to my ear as I talked.

And I gasped aloud when Charlie lifted the remote, held it to his ear, smiled wide, and said, "Duh duh duh duh duh."

I don't know how to talk about this. I don't know what to say.

I could tell you not to give up, but some of you will, and you should if that's what feels right, or if that's what feels least wrong.

I could tell you to hang in there, that someday this will happen for you, but for some of you it won't, and, anyway, if I ever say anything quite so obliviously perky, please shoot me in the face, oh, won't you?

I could simply say that you all have my every hope, but while that's true, when did plain old hope ever get us what we wanted?

I could tell you it's all worth it, but I know full well I can only afford to feel that way because I have my happy ending.

But, shit, go ahead and shoot me in the face, because I have to say it anyway. Don't give up, as long as you can stand it. Hang in there — it might still happen for you, if not in the way you planned, maybe in a way you haven't yet imagined. You have my every hope: I want this for every one of you.

It's worth every bit of it. Duh duh duh duh duh. I hope you'll hear that, too.

Posted by Julie at 08:08:17 PM in I've learned a lot...but I'm not sure it's worth it.

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Duh duh duh duh duh

Two years ago, I had just gotten a negative after our third IVF, and a strong suggestion from my doctor that we should abandon my eggs and "seek closure."

One year ago, at Tertia's behest, I had just taken the only photo in existence that shows me visibly pregnant.

Today, I sat on the floor in the den with Charlie as he played with the remote control. When the phone rang, I got up to get it, then returned to the floor with the cordless handset held to my ear as I talked.

And I gasped aloud when Charlie lifted the remote, held it to his ear, smiled wide, and said, "Duh duh duh duh duh."

I don't know how to talk about this. I don't know what to say.

I could tell you not to give up, but some of you will, and you should if that's what feels right, or if that's what feels least wrong.

I could tell you to hang in there, that someday this will happen for you, but for some of you it won't, and, anyway, if I ever say anything quite so obliviously perky, please shoot me in the face, oh, won't you?

I could simply say that you all have my every hope, but while that's true, when did plain old hope ever get us what we wanted?

I could tell you it's all worth it, but I know full well I can only afford to feel that way because I have my happy ending.

But, shit, go ahead and shoot me in the face, because I have to say it anyway. Don't give up, as long as you can stand it. Hang in there — it might still happen for you, if not in the way you planned, maybe in a way you haven't yet imagined. You have my every hope: I want this for every one of you.

It's worth every bit of it. Duh duh duh duh duh. I hope you'll hear that, too.