We are less than a month away from the big day, the transfer and implantation of our last two remaining embryos!!!
Hope swirls around our minds, as we pull 10ml of Lupron into the syringe, and grasping it like a dart, inject it into my belly. Hope builds as the bruises form, as I give myself another Lovenox shot, as I take 7 pills with my breakfast, and rip off and replace the estrogen patch doing its job of thickening my lining for the big day. I follow my nurse’s orders and go in for blood work nice and early, and get an ultrasound to confirm that this host of pharmaceutical wonders are doing their job. I feel nauseous some days, jittery others, and any other fill-in-the-blank emotion you can imagine, moment by moment. The “devil shot” as I call it (progesterone in thick, sloooow moving oil, inserted intramuscularly, and well, it just freaking hurts) will begin soon. Nurse Shawn will step up to the plate for that one. (Hot nurse alert.)
It’s almost game time, which is exciting and makes every pinch, poke, and prod so worth it.
And it puts hope on the table, once again.
There are times we were scared to hope but we did it anyway.
We hoped through tears, we hoped through fear.
Hope can feel dangerous, you know.
But not giving into the beautiful free fall of hope doesn’t change the outcome, just like allowing paralyzing fear to take over won’t change the outcome.
The outcome is set. Written in history before we even got there.
God is there and he holds our results in His gracious hands. It doesn’t mean there’s not the temptation to fear, to wonder, to remember past results and outcomes. But even then, EVEN THEN, His good hands were guiding us every step of the way. Yes, hope can feel dangerous, and risky, but it’s worth it every time when hope and trust are paired together. Paired up like bruises and belly shots, excitement and nerves.
“The hope He gives will never disappoint.”