I'm known for being an emotional man. I cried at my wedding rehearsal, much to the horror of my wife and mother-in-law and the surprise of the gathered family and friends. I cried at the final episode of Lost. I cried watching Marley and Me (but honestly, who didn't??).
But only once, before today, have I cried since this whole journey began. I forget what the context was (after one of the failed IUIs, I think), but MK was really upset and I might have allowed myself a tear or so in front of her. I waited until I was alone that I let the rest out. I never wanted to cry in front of her. I needed to be strong for her.
Today, it got real. This might not work. When they told us that none of the embryos may be frozen, it hit me. We weren't expecting this. Not at all. All of them? Why? How? It was a wave of emotion when I saw the disappointment in MK's face.
I held it in through the procedure. I saw the picture of the two proto-babies they were inserting and said a silent prayer.
It was when we got to the recovery room and we were left alone is when I looked down at MK and couldn't hold it any more.
I always said that I wouldn't be upset until we were out of options and the Doc would finally say "That's it. We're done." It's when we were done with all the natural/science options is when I would be upset. Until then, there's options. There's hope.
Now, knowing that there's a chance that those embryos might not make it to freezing, it got real. I am hurting for those dozen or so almost-babies. I'm hurting for MK. She's been a real trooper through all this.
So just the two of us. We cried together for the first time. After a minute or two, I realized that there's still hope. There's two bundle of cells that might become the next little baby (or babies) Roberts. As long as there's hope...