So, I've started acupuncture again in anticipation of our potentially positive decision to go forward with another cycle of IVF. (Whew, that was a mouthful! The long and short of it is that we have not completely decided, but we are leaning heavily toward indulging ourselves in a 4th cycle.)
What is it about needles that just makes me swell with hope? I think that I have become weirdly conditioned, like a cutter maybe. The idea of jabbing myself, or being jabbed, once filled me with fear. And now, it's as though my mind interprets each little pin prick, each stab of the needle, as one step closer to the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. And so, I look forward to these moments with eager anticipation. (Oh Pavlov, I believe, I too drool!)
It's like when I buy a lottery ticket. It's always on a day when work's been crap and I need a little extra hope to get me through. That ticket allows me to dream, if only for a few hours, of a different future. Of a life without my crazy boss. Of the option to stay home and spend more time with my family. I buy it with open eyes. I know that my dreams have a very good chance of expiring at the next draw, but it's still worth it.
Cycling, at my age, has been like that too. I know, very honestly, that it's a crap shoot. I know that there is a reason some of my eggs are still around down there... it's because they're too messed up to locate the exit. They've just been bumping around inside me for 42 years going, "Which way do I go? Which way do I go?!" But, every time I start a cycle, I have hope. Hope that there's one. One that is still in good shape. One that will make it up my ovary's creaky escalator and help produce a lovely embryo. Just one. Please one.
So, weekly I lay on the bed and allow myself to be jabbed and poked. Happily I feel my chi release and indulge myself in sweet thoughts of babies. For that hour, the dream is alive. And, for now, that is enough.