Pictures

Today I have been on a cleaning rampage. You know the kind. You see a stack of papers and think "I need to organize those." Done. Then you open the fridge and think "Hmmm, that could use a little clean out" and suddenly every drawer is out and being sanitized and you're stabbing at things with Qtips. Is that just me?

At any rate, one area led to another area led to another area which eventually led to these built in cabinets we have in our kitchen. I don't open them up very often, they mostly just serve as storage.

I opened them up. And then I saw them.
The gold folders. The big binder. Oh yes, my entire infertility medical history.
Gold folders labeled: IVF #1, IVF #2, IVF #3--done at my local clinic. And then, the big giant white binder for CCRM.

I opened the gold folders. Inside were little scraps of paper with follicle sizes written down--that's how my RE did it, he wrote them quick on a little piece of scratch paper while the nurse transcribed them in the chart, then he'd give me the scratch paper. Afterwards I'd take that little piece of paper with me and pore over it, memorizing the numbers on it, comparing it to the previous report, meditating on them, pinning all my hopes and dreams on those little numbers written on those pieces of paper.

Also tucked into the pockets of those gold folders were the pictures of our transferred embryos.

You might think I'd get emotional seeing them. But strangely, not so much. Those are distant, distant memories now. Sure, I'm sad those embryos didn't make it. Of course. There were times I couldn't breathe because those embryos didn't make it. If loving them and believing in them and wanting them would have made it so then it would have been so. But everyone knows that simply isn't enough.

But now--now I have new pictures. Yes! Yes! We received several unexpected updated photos this week and my heart has grown one million times bigger with love for my two babies a world away. Oh how I wish I could share those pictures with you.

I tossed all of my infertility folders minus one giant summary file since it includes surgeries I've had. Yes, the embryo pictures were thrown out, too. Some might say that is crass but really, I don't want to hold onto pain. There is no need for pain now. I also happened upon a cache of no less than 1,000 syringes, needles, pen needles, and two bottles of PIO (??). Sheesh.

Into the trash, all of it. Relics of a past lifetime.

Where I used to pore over scraps of paper with follicle sizes, and cling tightly to pictures of little embryos now Mr. MTL and I sit and stare into the eyes of our babies, and look at their little bellies, and their beautiful brown skin, and their tiny baby hands, and oh yes, their tiny baby feet......