by emory

i have always thought of myself as a patient person. at the art museum, i linger in front of the paintings i love most, waiting to see what else they will reveal to me. long afternoons in the backyard are spent sketching my spinach seedlings or the dandelions cropping up in the grass. most of my hobbies are slow-paced: knitting sweaters, stitching quilts, cutting up magazines to arrange collages. even the video games i play require patience, hornet returning to her cocoon in silksong after falling in battle again and again.

but the process of trying to conceive fills me with the impulse to rush.

i stopped taking my testosterone in mid-november. then, i had to wait six months to see whether my period would return (it didn’t) before i could meet with a fertility specialist.

my doctor understands my urgency. we had our first consult on a monday, and she got me in for an ultrasound and bloodwork two days later. in our initial call, i told her all the milestones in my relationship with jozef: when we met, when i knew he was the one, when i proposed, when we got married. i explained that long before we ever kissed, we knew that we wanted to be parents together.

our relationship, too, has been one of patience. we were fast friends when we met, but everything else took time. i remember the anxiety coiled in my chest like a snake waiting for its moment to snap in the weeks it took jozef to decide whether or not he wanted to get married. but i was patient, and when he was ready, he said yes.

to some, our relationship seems backwards—not antiquated, but in reverse. we were life partners before we were romantically involved. i asked him to be the beneficiary on my 401(k) before i asked him to marry me. and we didn’t kiss until after he agreed to receive my retirement funds in the case of my untimely end. but it never felt backwards to me. everything happened when it was supposed to. each time i had to wait, i learned to hold uncertainty with greater strength.

yet, when i try to summon that same strength and patience as i try to conceive, i struggle. i want the fast flutter of butterfly wings, not the inching forward of a caterpillar.

it took weeks for my bloodwork to come back, mostly because i had to do genetic testing, which always takes a while. as soon as i saw the results had come in, i reached out to the fertility clinic to ask them if they would send me the prescription for provera, which should induce a menstrual cycle. their response? more bloodwork! ever impatient, i asked them to at least prescribe the medication so that i have it on hand as soon as they’re ready for me to take it (which they did—as i write this, i’m staring at the pill bottle across the room). my bloodwork is this afternoon, and hopefully, i will be able to start the medication next week.

i do my best to stave off my impatience.

one of my go-to strategies is spending time with S, A, and their baby C. hanging out with a baby is sort of like micro-dosing parenting, isn’t it? i babysit for them and refuse to accept any payment because spending time with their hilarious little ham of a kiddo is more than adequate compensation.

the long weekend was especially helpful for distracting me because one of our college friends came to visit. we did so much together:

• took a rainy-day trip to the art museum

• went on a walk in the woods (along with some of our local friends, including A, S, and C)

• strolled through the botanical gardens

• had cozy evenings in with the top-tier combo of weed + shitty movies

• gossiped, obviously

but as soon as our friend left, my agitation returned. why, why is there so much waiting?!

i do believe that there is purpose in patience. i know i can be a little hippie-dippie, but i have faith in the divine—god, the stars, nirvana, whatever you want to call it. even if i don’t like it, i feel that the waiting is right.

after all, every part of pregnancy requires patience. i’ll take the medication when the doctor tells me to, and then i’ll have to wait for my period to arrive. when it does, i’ll have to wait for the right time to do the sonogram. then, i’ll have to wait for the results of the sonogram. then the proper timing for a conception attempt. as many attempts as are necessary to conceive. and then nine-or-so months of waiting. and on and on and on.

i feel certain that becoming a parent is what i am meant to do. but it is not all i am meant to do. the need for patience invites me to consider how else i can spend my days. a joyful weekend with a dear friend is a great start. and still, i must find other divine work to do, other pleasures to savor.