Old(er) Eggs

So I got my hormone levels back yesterday afternoon. The result?
My eggs are getting prematurely old.
Not exactly the news I wanted to hear.
You see, I’ve never been one of those chicks who frets about age. I’m 36 and I still get carded. And Lord knows I proudly earned every one of the gray hairs now starting to sprout through the top of my dreads.
But the news of my aging eggs really, really bummed me out. Medically that means I’ll need more and even stronger infertility meds during the upcoming IVF procedure. The meds are pricey (thousands of dollars), not covered by insurance, and have a higher chance of some serious side effects .
And since we also have some other infertility issues this IVF round is going to be tough.
For the first time in my life, I felt old.
So decided to do something about it.
I put the kiddo in her swimsuit, grabbed the bubbles, and headed to the nearest outdoor splash fountain.
I felt like a kid blowing bubbles while Zahra raced around in circles.
Then we went shopping for clothes in coral, this season’s hot color. Zahra toddled around with my purse. She oohed and said “pwetty” when she saw herself in the full length mirror.
It didn’t matter to her that her hair was now a mess, that she was wearing a green plastic lei, that there was a juice stain on her shirt.
She saw herself and felt pretty.
What’s more, she said “mommy pwetty” when I tried on my dress.
And all of a sudden I saw myself through her eyes.
Strong, pretty, and able to move mountains.
And I felt young again and so grateful for the chance to pretend to put on makeup with my best girl in the store and giggle at our reflections.
We ate that night in our rose garden surrounded by the tiny flicker of tea lights. The two of us hugged each other close and looked up at the night sky, sable colored and dotted with stars.
We sat quietly, mother and daughter, feeling full, happy, and beautiful.

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About domesticpolichick

My life is a crazy jumble of sitcom-level domestic hijinks and fast-paced political reporting in the nation's capital. Breastfeeding while doing a phone interview with a senator...yep, I've done it and no, I won't reveal the name. Toddler calling a member of Congress on the cell..yeah, that really did happen. Pregnant in high heels on Capitol Hill trying to chase down a particularly grumpy senator, yeah...that was nuts. But what can I say? I'm just one domestic polichick trying to figure out the work-life balance.
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One Response to Old(er) Eggs

  1. Noe Champaco says:

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