Well, the results are in.

I have only a fraction of any chance to conceive a child and to bring a baby home with my own eggs... It is strange to know this now. Deep conversations with my husband... I am going to begin fertility drugs. We are going to try aggressively to find one of my few good eggs and get that egg fertilized. The chances according to our current clinic are in the single digit percentage.

But that is still a percentage.

Meanwhile we are scheduled at two other clinics within driving distance to find their take on my circumstance, for each clinic handles things differently. And then soon it will be out of state. Two of the best clinics are on the other side of the country.

Now the real journey begins. I feel sort of numb; I am still sick and I am still overmedicated. But somehow I knew this. How do we know? Some people are simply in tune with their bodies. It could be the years of biofeedback, it could be whatever that odd intuition that runs down the maternal side of my family tree. I think of all the white hair coming in on my head; more now than regular colored hair. It blends because it is so light but I see it. It could be my own medical background reminding me of these things I already knew about the female human reproductive lifespan.

We have talked enough to have agreed to an egg donor if I can't do this. But still, the tears are going to come. I look in the mirror and I see what everyone else sees; this girlish looking sprite who can't be a day over 25. Fire in her eyes. Taunt and youthful skin. And yet inside a part of me is near it end of life. Somehow I can't make the connection. But I can write this; I feel such a sadness right now for the child I may not have with my husband. I think of someone recently in my family making a snide remark about how things 'worked out good for me' and that I didn't have any problems. What is that? Things didn't just work out for me. I worked very hard to be where I am and I am where I am at because I worked hard. But I never, ever once fooled myself into thinking money was God. I haven't even got to the part when I look at myself and now truly have a line of definition in my life. When I could and now when I quite possibly can't.

I feel sort of empty. We are going away for Valentine's Day next week as I can't leave the house as yet to travel. And I'd thought that next week would be nice; I'd be in the zone for conception. Now rather I will take the fertility drugs beginning today (I have) and next week I will be inseminated. Knowing just how slim the odds are that my husband's sperm will fertilize one of my few eggs and that the embryo will ever go beyond a few weeks makes my heart scream. Because I could become pregnant. But the odds of that pregnancy progressing are smaller still. I think that there could be one good egg left inside me. One. I don't buy evolution. I don't buy what science can make into some kind of popular theory. I believe that only God can offer what a heart desires. I won't pray. He/she already knows my heart.

I would have rather found it was early menopause. Then I would have something tangible to blame. Right now I do want something to blame, but there is nothing. I am simply now a statistic. A woman at 39 trying to do the thing that is making an entire industry wealthy beyond imagining.

I just want my husband's child...

The thought that I can use another woman's egg is a relief but it is a foreign thought. It is something that I can imagine. But I wanted to see the face of our child. And right now I don't think that is going to happen.

I will hope anyway.

Sometimes that is all one can do.