(hopefully)

Was writing in my journal today and noticed how often I use this term – hopefully – sandwiched between brackets.  It kind of makes me sigh in a sad, longing way.  So many hopes, so much at stake, and so out of my control.  Especially when I think of how hopeful – elated, really – I was back in April for my first IUI, and how that was all bullshit; that we all know I probably didn’t ovulate at all that month, and that the clinic just screwed up and wasted my time and money.  Thinking about that makes me cringe.  However, that will never happen again.  Now I know there are problems and will be much more vigilant about insisting on monitoring.  Nearly everyone I read about has weird issues like this where things went wrong or mistakes were made, so I guess I’m not alone in this.  There’s bound to be plenty of mistakes along the way.

Not much to report today, just waiting on my Day 10 ultrasound on Friday.  I hope it’s the last thing I have to do that could stop everything – I hope if I get the ok Friday that there will be no more surprises, no more, “oh wait, we have to check this one more thing that could stop everything down another month.”  The clinic is famous for throwing me these curve balls.  I hope if I get the ok Friday that I just trigger and then we go.  (hopefully)

Today I took this very interesting survey.  If you’re in the “thinking” phase and don’t have children yet, I highly suggest taking it.  It just takes a few minutes and is pretty fascinating.  The purpose is to gather what women think about having children in today’s world, what we know about fertility, attitudes about age & child bearing, etc.  You see the link to it here.

I thought I would continue on with my poetry series by copying over this poem, another of my favorites from my youth.  Since first reading this there is hardly a time that goes by when I pass someone on the street and don’t think, ‘I nod my head to you and, smiling, scream.”

A Screamer Discusses Methods of Screaming

By James Schevill

We all scream, most of us inside.
Outside is another world.
A neighbor fills her television dinner
With too much pepper and screams.
One woman stabs her door with a sword.
Another, overweight, steps in the shower
And screams, 'Fat! Fat! Fat! '
A man who takes flying lessons
Soars high in the clouds to scream.
Another dives to the bottom of his pool
Where he screams underwater.
A friend cleans his gun, screaming, 'Assasin! '
I like an interior, smiling scream.
When you walk past me on the street
I nod my head to you, and smiling, scream.
You never hear me through the smile.
The inside scream has no echo.

*I found it more than ironic that the web site I copied this poem from had a big Ann Taylor Loft Maternity ad next to the poem, depicting a smiling pregnant woman in a pretty blue dress.  I scream.