A few days ago, T and I broke the news to my mother. Over breakfast, we said we had some news. Her eyes shone, and she started to smile. It was clear she thought she knew what we were going to say.
"No, don't get excited," I said. "This isn't good news."
At that, her thoughts went to the worst case scenario. "Should I get out some Kleenex?" she asked.
"No, it's not bad news, either. It's just - we are starting IVF."
Naturally, she wasn't that familiar with IVF and had tons of questions, which I think we answered. It was a long discussion. In the end, trying to be reassuring, she said she was "happy for us."
"Really? You're happy I get to inject myself with all sorts of drugs?" I joked, even as I understood her intent.
"No, no. I just mean, I know everything will work out."
It might. But there's an equal chance it might not.
In any event, I'm taking birth control and counting down the days until the Lupron injections start.
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