4th of July

Last year, I went to watch fireworks with my good friend, Jen. I had to bring my lupron shot with me and administer it in the hot, gross, sticky bathroom. I remember standing in the stall, staring at my stomach and wondering why I am putting myself through that torture.

This year, not only did I get to go back to the same place with Jen, but I got to spend the holiday with my husband, who hasn't had an Independence Day off for many years (since he was an EMT/Firefighter and Fire Marshal). Oh, and I got to feel my son wiggling about inside of me, just as annoyed at my moving all around to find a comfortable place to sit than I was.

I thought back to that moment in the bathroom stall, and I knew then why it was I put myself through the torture of IVF. Because, if I had given up, I wouldn't have this squirmy baby that I have now.

Every day that passes is a day closer to meeting him. I am nervous, and sometimes it hits me just how much my life is about to change, and I get scared. But, when I put my hand on my stomach and feel my sassy son kicking in defiance, I smile and know it will be okay.