In the moments just before sleep, I felt the warmth of Hubby’s hand touching mine. One of my peculiarities is that I cannot fall asleep if anything, including Hubby, is touching me. Sure, snuggling is great but once it’s time for sleep, I scoot away to my side of the bed and expect Hubby to do the same. Falling asleep in his embrace would be a rare thing and I could probably count the number of times this actually occurred on one hand in the 14 years that we’ve been together.

I glanced over at him in the darkness. He was motionless and I could hear the soft rhythmic breathing of sleep. I slowly and gingerly slid his hand over a few inches toward him, trying not to wake him. Moments later, his hand was back, resting against mine. Again, I pushed his hand away, careful not to rouse him. I closed my eyes, positioned my pillow under my neck just so, pulled the blankets up under my chin and let myself drift… then, the hand. Again! I shot him a glance and he started snickering.

“You are sooo OCS!” he laughed.

“OCS?”

“Yeah, only child syndrome. People with siblings have to share the bed with their sisters, brothers, cousins… but only children don’t have to share — so they don’t like people touching them when they’re sleeping,” he laughed, obviously amused by this epiphany.

It made sense, though. I suppose a lot of my weirdness can be attributed to my lack of siblings. Mental Note: If we can have kids — try for two.

People who want kids can’t have them. People who don’t want kids get pregnant and have abortions. People who shouldn’t have kids have too many.

Oh, the irony of life.

I started the day with a visit to my ob/gyn, which is really never a pleasant experience to begin with but with all this talk about infertility, hormone therapy, and in vitro, these appointments seem to be all the more dreadful. Noting my chart, the doc asked me if I was still intending to see the infertility specialist about the possibility of attempting in vitro fertilization.

I mentioned that I had just started a new job and the transition has been quite stressful, so we were intending to wait 6-12 months before starting the process. She looked up from the chart and gave me the hint of a disapproving frown and said, “Well, you know… you are getting up there, so you should really start sooner rather than later.” She then proceeded to jot notes in the chart and explain how she’ll pursue putting me on the Depo Lupron injection schedule and that we should make an appointment with the infertility specialist to coincide with the completion of the 6 month hormone therapy regimen.

Almost as an afterthought, she mentioned that I could look at my calendar and start the monthly Depo Lupron injections a couple months from now and just adjust the schedule accordingly — but stressed that we shouldn’t wait too long.

After all, I am “getting up there.”

I asked her if my endometriosis would make it impossible to conceive without doing in vitro. She studied my chart for a moment and said, “Well, not impossible… but I think you could use some help.”

I talked it over with Hubby and we still may wait a few months and just try the old fashioned way, making a concerted effort to conceive. Now wouldn’t that simply be a miracle: despite the doubts of my ob/gyn, we get pregnant without “help.”

Honestly though, we do need help. God’s help. If it’s in His plan, it’ll happen with or without drugs, specialists and costly procedures. I just have to learn how to accept the outcome graciously — whatever it may be.