IrenicEmbers

I am stuffed of eggs benedict and half of a cinnamon roll. Nick’s Sunday morning ritual is to go out to a local breakfast/brunch place and bring us back Sunday breakfast. I always get the eggs benedict and he gets some sort of egg/omelet/cheesy dish with a side of bacon that leaves him with an upset stomach all day. Nick’s lactose intolerant and the cheese always gets him. It doesn’t stop him from ordering it though.

While I ate, I read the story of Stephanie Nielson and cried. I cried all over my eggs benedict. Ever since I heard of her story about a year ago, I’ve been following her sisters’ and her blog.  I may not necessarily agree with their religious beliefs (Mormons scare me) but I read because I’m a sucker for an inspiring story.

Anyway, as I was reading I started thinking of this decision that looms in front of my face. Nick and I have discussed having a child frequently and as I get older, I wonder if I still want to do this. Caring for a child is hard, there’s the responsibility not only for them but for you too. Take Stephanie, one move and her four children would have been orphans. Nick’s getting older and should we attempt to try he will be older still by the time if and when we succeed.

I spoke to my gyno about this last year and she wanted to start with drugs first to stimulate the egg being released from the ovaries. If that happens, then we try. But for people with conditions like my own, it’s never that easy and surgery would most likely be the method. I’m not sure I want to go through all of that. Maybe I’m selfish and maybe I think the world is just over populated but it’s something that’s stirring in my head this weekend. When Christmas is so close and it’s supposed to be spent around families and I’m so far from mine.