Drop off, work, pick up, playground, work, play, sleep, drop off, work, pick up, playground, work, play, sleep…that is how our spring is going. Round and round, sneeze after sneeze, and right into the end of his time in preschool. Yesterday I heard W quietly humming a song on the sofa. He laughed when I looked at him and said, “you aren’t supposed to hear this yet, so pretend I am not singing this to you.” Then he sang a song about the children in his class graduating. It was all I could do to not swoop him up and rock him like a babe.
We play with kids on the playground and I know in a few months we will never see them again. In a few years he may never remember these zany children he chased around the park playing monster tag and hide and seek with. I know he will quickly make new friends in his new school because he is SUCH a social guy, but I know I will miss coming to this school. He has been a student here since the week before his 2nd birthday.
This morning I was on another call when call waiting chirped. I pulled the phone away from my ear and glanced at the called id and gasped. There are few names that would create that reaction, but seeing the name of your fertility clinic is most certainly one of them. WHAT DO THEY WANT?!!! I heard the chime indicating they had left a message and once I was off my call I stared at their name in my message folder. My finger hovered over the play icon…waiting.
I realized my 1st thought was that they were calling to tell me that the 1 remaining straw of embryos I had left had been destroyed. When I felt sadness over this I was surprised. I mean not truly surprised, but a little. I had made the decision to be DONE. But I had never been final about it. I pressed play and listened to a familiar voice from billing tell me the debit card they had on file was no longer working and they needed me to call back with a new one so they could process payment for my embryo storage fee.
Oh. Right. My card had been replaced by the bank after “Target-gate” and it didn’t even occur to me to call the clinic to let them know. I called Mom to ask her point blank: should I tell the clinic to destroy the embryos? Not exactly an easy or kind question to fling at your mother, but it would have been REALLY nice to have someone make the decision for me. In talking to her I realized I was emotional about any kind of choice which made me realize I was not in the mindset to decide.
W no longer talks about baby brothers or baby sisters and with this last donation drop I have purged most baby items from the house. I am focused on saving up to buy a house and saving up for school for W. But maybe in 2 years my financial situation will be different. Hell if I know.
“Spring arrived on time
Only what became of you, dear
Spring can really hang you up the most…”