Between Two Worlds

It was another big day yesterday. I took a trip down to Victoria to attend my friend's baby shower.  It's been a couple of years since I've been turning down invites to baby showers, but am starting to integrate them back into my social life now. I must say, I really enjoyed myself. My friend is expecting an IVF baby and has not had an easy pregnancy, so was so honoured to share this special time with her.

It still feels a bit strange though -like a club I waited on the outside for a long time to join, to which I'm not yet a full fledged member. I don't have much to contribute to the labour stories and, the conversation about motherhood to which I'm not yet initiated.  Then there was the awkwardness of "how do you two know each other" question which fortunately I was able to avoid for the most part. In a way it was actually easier to not know anyone other than the guest of honour.  I'd forgotten about all the little shower games and actually ended up doing really well on the guess-the-chocolate-bar-in-the-diaper one (go figure). Maybe I'll be a whiz at analyzing my baby's poo??!?

Before I went to the shower I met another clinic pal for coffee who is still in the trenches with cycling. It was so nice to meet her in person, and to share stories and a few giggles. I must say I still feel like I have more in common with people doing IVF than with other pregnant women or moms, except I'm no longer stuck in that horrible emotional crux wondering if there would ever be a way out. Even my memories of procedures and details are softening around the edges.

It's like being between two worlds -the infertility world and the motherhood world. It can be a bit lonely sometimes, but I remind myself that it's all a normal part of transition and change.

Between coffee and the shower I stopped in at my old clinic. As I approached the front door, I had this wave of nervousness come over me (I guess that anxiety associated with that place hasn't completely gone away!). There was another couple entering at the same time.  I picked them out right away as fertility patients because they looked a bit like stunned deer in the headlights-I remember those days so well. I shared the elevator ride with them and sure enough they were also going to the same floor. It was one of the hottest days we've had this summer, so I was wearing just capris and a t-shirt. I wished at that moment that I had a long loose fitting cardiagan to throw on to cover my bump. What business to I have walking into their fertility clinic smiling and glowingly pregnant?  Luckily they took the washroom keys and headed down the hallway while I chatted with the nurse who was on shift. She recognized me right away and asked how far along I was, and how the pregnancy was going. She sent me to the other side of the office where my RE was taking a phone call, and said she would let him know I was there.

As I sat in the empty waiting area I was thinking about the hours I had spent there anxiously awaiting whatever news each appointment would bring. He came out a few minutes later and was beaming with a big wide grin. He reached out as if to hug me but instead put both of his hands firmly on my belly. "It's so good to see you, and you (speaking to little Silver), thanks for stopping by".  It was a strangely intimate but very comfortable moment. We sat and chatted briefly about the pregnancy and I thanked him for answering my e-mails and giving me some direction and reassurance during the kidney stone scare. He admitted that he was really worried that I might go into preterm labour, and was so relieved when it passed. As I was leaving he said he hoped that we'd arrange to bring our baby by for a visit in the new year. "You know he/she is partly ours" he said. "Of course" I responded "It's the least I can do". Even once the transition to mommyhood has happened. I don't think I'll ever be able to let go entirely of the infertility world and the village of people that helped make our child.