DH and I had a long talk last night about our doc appointment tomorrow. We're both extremely nervous, but I found out neither of us really expect good news. It really seems like we're going instead to have a doctor confirm our worst fears face to face. Lovely.
We talked about what we think our next step will be. Since neither of us really think that "fixing" whatever the problem ultimately turns out to be is feasible or even possible, we talked about donor sperm and adoption.
DH is leaning toward adoption. He didn't say it, but I think (and please excuse my terminology on this) he feels uncomfortable with the idea of a child that is genetically mine and another man's. I think he is more comfortable with a child that, genetically, belongs to neither of us. I'm OK with this, I guess, but it hurts to think I might never be pregnant.
On the bright side, my boobs may never sag! :)
I cried this morning reading adoption blogs on The Stirrup Queen's blogroll. I mean, really really cried. Sobbed. Had to go downstairs and find my teddy bear kind of crying. I haven't really lost it since we found out. Don't get me wrong. I have cried every single day for a week and a half, but not like that. After finally stopping, I called my mom to see what she was up to today. Two seconds of talking to her and I was sobbing again.
I thank God for my mom. She had her own fertility issues when trying to get pregnant with me, so understood and just let me cry. Then she took me shopping for Christmas stuff. I talked with her a while about adoption/sperm donations, DH's feelings, and mine. She told me that somewhere, there was a baby that was meant to be mine. She didn't care how it got to me.
I sure hope she's right.