Well, my vision's not 100% clear and the rain hasn't completely gone, but all in all the forecast is looking better. The sun's peaking through a bit. Thunderclouds have definately found a new playground. I'd say I'm moving into "cautiously optimistic" avenue, which is a couple of streets shy of the "Plan B" detour.
Let me explain. I believe we have a great shot in January. I feel hopeful that the embryos will make it out of the big chill and decide to cozy in and make a go of it. If they don't, we'll do in vitro again. I have no reason to believe that I won't respond just as well the second time around as I did the first. And maybe, just maybe, we'll get a few to put on ice again. And if round two of IVF and FET doesn't work, we'll do a third round of IVF. I've read that 80% of folks who do three rounds of IVF get a consolation prize for playing, a baby. I like those odds. So, we've got a few road trips before the detour.
The Plan B detour. I don't know what that means at this point. I guess I'm not ready to read the map. What I want in my deepest heart of hearts (cue the selfish part) is a combo meal of E and me. Oh, the child would be witty and smart and sensitive and, to borrow from the Little Prince, unique in all the world. I just don't want to think about not having that. Not just yet. Maybe never.