We've done this before. Many, many times.
We have waited.
Two years ago we waited with innocence, excitement. I do miss that.
A year ago we waited sometimes with naive enthusiasm, sometimes a knowing dread.
The last 6 or 8 months have been peaks and troughs in the extreme. The laparoscopy and the supposed increased chances it brings, being teased with the promise of an IUI, having it eventually cancelled, a cycle on a very effective dose of Clomid. Always ending up with waiting, a couple of weeks every time, wondering if this is the time we could cross that fine line, but with the weight of all the previous months holding us back.
I don't know how people do this long term. The treatments, the trying, the extending yourselves, the offering up of slices of your energy reserves and sanity.
We have some daylight now behind us in this two week wait and I can feel it starting. Half conversations that haven't been touched on in nearly 2 years, counting months ahead on our fingers, the daydreaming allowed to linger that little bit longer than it has been for what seems such a long time.
It's simmering. The nervousness, hope, positivity, a little worry.
And damn it, excitement.