Sorry about that.
I'm not even sure I have a post in me at the moment.
Last Monday our sweet 10 year old kitty died. She had a heart condition, and had beaten the odds for survival, but it seems that finally her extremely enlarged heart could no longer keep up, and she probably died of a heart attack. Rather rare for cats, but all of our efforts to prolong her life worked, and she didn't die of a blood clot, which is a really awful way to go.
We are heartbroken. We cried for hours, kissed her sweet furry cheeks, looked at every bit of her sweet little body (only 7lbs full grown), and in our own sweet time took her to the vet to be cremated.
It was an inauspicious day. It was very close to the date we found out I was pregnant with Sparky last year, and in light of the translocation issues, it sharpened that loss for both of us.
There are so many things to say about how this has opened both of us to understanding more about using donor gametes, as well as how it intersects with the loss of Sparky, our only mutually genetic child, but because these are things that are between us, and in many ways originating in my husband and his losses, it isn't my place to write about his feelings and his experience, and to write about mine would betray his privacy.
We are in a moratorium about TTC. He asked for some time to just let this stuff marinate and percolate (we have tentatively agreed that the reality of my aging eggs means through August is fair), but there is a chance we might be ready to take some action in July--low tech, maybe even a home insemination. Even though it is unlikely to work, it would go so ways to restoring our sense of privacy, and agency. It is wonderful to have all this technology available, but it does seem to escalate the worry, and suppress the excitement. Or maybe that is just me. I could do that on a fixed horse race (i.e. the horse could fall and break it's leg!).
But, I must admit, I am feeling hopeful and excited. Not hopeful just that maybe my eggs will work with donor sperm, that is in there, but excited about the possibility that something will happen, my eggs, donor eggs--just something. In many ways I am finally feeling what many people feel at the beginning of the process of TTC. I was so anxious and fatalistic I pretty much killed it for both of us. Oy. So, here I am, on the eve of our three year anniversary of TTC, finally feeling like I wish I could have in August 2006. Better late than never?