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.