Wouldn’t it be perfect if this IVF cycle worked?
Wouldn’t it be perfect if I could go to my grandfather’s eightieth birthday party in October and face my newly pregnant cousin and all of her congratulations? I wouldn’t be ready to announce my own pregnancy, but I would have a secret.
Wouldn’t it be perfect if I could start saving and planning for nurseries and college funds again rather than wondering how much longer I can continue paying for fertility drugs and medical expenses.
Wouldn’t it be perfect if I could announce my pregnancy at Christmas time and actually enjoy the holidays, decorate my home, and put up the Christmas tree (something I haven’t felt like doing for the past two years)?
Wouldn’t it be perfect if this all ended with a baby? I could start working to repair my soul. I could feel happy again. I could move on to the next phase of my life.
Wouldn’t it be perfect that the baby would be born at the beginning of June when Tony would be on school break? We would have three wonderful, beautiful months together learning how to be a new family.
It would be so perfect I could just scream.