It's not all you'd want it to be. It isn't like we realized we could steal a baby the next time we were at the zoo (it would be way easy, though), or that we concluded that having a baby isn't such a priority and we could just move on with our lives. Those reins are still there.
What we first realized, via an episode of House Hunters International (making its second blog appearance), is that we could totally move to Costa Rica and live comfortably without jobs. Like, for realz. Just wander around on the beach with a little kid or two, eat local produce, and nap in the afternoons. Skype with family and friends, host them every now and again, and all learn fluent Spanish. Everyone should speak Spanish, right?What we realized next is that Heather's on Clomid. The clinic is testing her reaction to fertility drugs in preparation for IVF, but they are nonetheless giving her fertility drugs. Why not do something with them? Monday morning, we're calling the sperm bank, getting a vial shipped overnight, and giving ICI another go.
Heather said she Googled Clomid and that it's just supposed to stimulate ovulation, which was never an issue. That's why she didn't take it when Dr. C offered it months ago. But it might stimulate more eggs and increase our chances, and we're willing to take a $550 chance.
"I just want two weeks to think I'm pregnant," she said.
And it's true: it's been forever since we did anything. It's been nothing but tests and consultations for more than six months now-- nary a moment of that scary, hopeful anticipation that makes up the two-weeks wait. And, as painful a negative might be, at least we'd be able to follow it with a trip to Nashville for the Big Bang. This is kind of our last hurrah-- our last adventure between just the two of us before the doctor and the petri dishes take over.
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