Perspective

I had a couple of interesting lessons about perspective today. First, as I was driving to work, I heard the day’s weather report on NPR. “There’s a chance of thunderstorms this afternoon – just a slight one, about 20%.”

Which is about the same chance my RE gave me for each IUI with Clomid. And it didn’t seem like a slight chance at all, in fact 20% sounded pretty darn good, until I got 2 BFN and suddenly 20% wasn’t acceptable at all. (Though, since I only produced one good follicle each time with Clomid, in retrospect, my chances weren’t really as good as 20% with those two tries.) When we switched to Femara plus Gonal-F, he said my chances were still about 20% - and my chances of multiples went up to about 20% as well. Strangely, 20% sounds good when talking about something like pregnancy, but then it also seems like an acceptably low risk when talking about something like multiples or thunderstorms. It’s all in what your perspective is when you’re considering the odds.

And for the record, we did get thunderstorms this afternoon. Big, dramatic ones with lots and lots of rain.

This afternoon, I saw a woman who was about to leave for Boston with her daughter and two year old grandson. He’d been born with some serious heart defects and “we can tell it’s time for another surgery because his little fingers and toes are turning blue again.” He’s had countless surgeries in his short life already and knows the doctors and nurses at the hospital in Boston as well as some kids know the staff at their day care. “We might be gone for a few weeks, but it could be as long as 4 months, so I’ll call for my follow-up appointment after I know when I’m going to be home.”

I couldn’t think of anything to say except, “I can’t imagine how incredibly stressful that is for you and your daughter.” She shrugged. “It’s what we’re used to. And it’s all he’s ever known. Most of the time, he’s a happy boy. We love him, he loves us. And when people ask me how he’s doing, I tell them, ‘He’s here with us now. And we’re savoring every second.’”

Now, I’m not saying that hearing this story has cured me of my grief over my miscarriage. Not at all. But her amazing way of looking at her life has led me to look at my own life from a different perspective. It really sucks that I’m not pregnant anymore. But I’m otherwise healthy, I responded well to Femara and Gonal-F, and there’s a good chance (more than 20%) that another IUI will work for me in the future. And the odds are with me that I’ll have a normal healthy baby. And one day, this horrible, icky time will just be a distant memory. But this horrible, icky memory will also be there to remind me just how lucky I am when I do have my own baby cradled in my arms.