A wise woman once told me that those that haven't experienced deployment or long periods of separated time from spouse/partners can't possibly understand how we feel when someone says something like 'oh he'll be home soon' or 'over half way there!' or 'three months will fly by!' She explained it along the lines of 'why don't you try sticking your head in a doorway and slamming it repeatedly with the door for the next three months or 30 days and see how quickly time flies by.
In truth, the days start to blur together and meld along the edges. It feels like quick snaps in a movie where Monday evolves into Friday and the weekends are a hodgepodge of rapid-fire events and sloth-like moments. I tend to want to feel the adrenaline rush so I can constantly feel alive and imitate the roller-coaster of my love life that normally strums under my fingers. Nothing replaces the heartache, headache, encompassing love and tumultuous thrill ride that has been ingrained in my bones the last nine years.
To add insult to injury the second part of my everyday existence, my MIL-mommate has also been doing an extended road trip to retrieve her stuff. So the two warm talking bodies that complete my kid-less home existence, along with my pets, are leaving me in a quiet world. Any parent of a live-in child could compare it to an extend absence from them all. The noise is what fills in the edges of your day.
His return heralds in another lane that I've been slowing revamping my body to be tuned for: the baby files. With three or so cycles before he comes back I've begun doing the home Ovulation Predictor Kits (OPK) again, and starting to get the Clomid scrips filled. Prior to his departure we had finally achieved the right dosage of Clomid, but it was almost a years worth of dosage in. The emotional meltdown from the trial and error and the chemical warfare on my body only further supported the next 8 month hiatus prior to and through the dep.loym.ent.
We have six doses. Dr Bo, my fertility specialist, says with almost certainty that if those six doses doesn't assist in producing a child in my womb than it's invitro (IVF) is the only option left. And at this stage, with very raw wounds from the two hard fervent years of meds and testing and emotional chaos in my marriage, I'm not sure I'm willing to open that door. Only time will tell.
75 days to go. Let the games begin.
To add insult to injury the second part of my everyday existence, my MIL-mommate has also been doing an extended road trip to retrieve her stuff. So the two warm talking bodies that complete my kid-less home existence, along with my pets, are leaving me in a quiet world. Any parent of a live-in child could compare it to an extend absence from them all. The noise is what fills in the edges of your day.
His return heralds in another lane that I've been slowing revamping my body to be tuned for: the baby files. With three or so cycles before he comes back I've begun doing the home Ovulation Predictor Kits (OPK) again, and starting to get the Clomid scrips filled. Prior to his departure we had finally achieved the right dosage of Clomid, but it was almost a years worth of dosage in. The emotional meltdown from the trial and error and the chemical warfare on my body only further supported the next 8 month hiatus prior to and through the dep.loym.ent.
We have six doses. Dr Bo, my fertility specialist, says with almost certainty that if those six doses doesn't assist in producing a child in my womb than it's invitro (IVF) is the only option left. And at this stage, with very raw wounds from the two hard fervent years of meds and testing and emotional chaos in my marriage, I'm not sure I'm willing to open that door. Only time will tell.
75 days to go. Let the games begin.
