Flashback

The other day, Bryce showed me something super cool that he did at work. It was a highly zoomed in video of a dark screen, and then there was a quick flash and everybody in the lab cheered with excitement. 

Basically, whatever was inside a thing went into a quantum state, and the flash was that moment. 

(Every time Bryce talks about quantum physics, all I can think of is Antman, which tells you just how "science-y" I am...)

"Isn't that cool?" he said, as he played it one more time. 

"Yeah, super cool..." I said. 

Bryce noticed that I looked a little off. "What's going on? This is a great breakthrough!" 

Well. 

Anyone who has done an IVF cycle knows that there is a moment when you are looking at a dark screen, and then there is a quick flash of light. 

It's not something going into a quantum state. 

It's when the embryo is released from the pipette into the uterus during transfer, and the two-week-wait begins. 

The last time I saw that flash, I teared up and said, "I'm so sorry you're going to die in there, but I really hope you don't... good luck." 

That was probably an indication that we should have stopped treatment sooner. It was my last flash, because after that, I couldn't get to transfer because my uterus went on strike. 

I felt bad, because it was this immediate flashback, and I couldn't help the way my lip twisted when I saw the insanely cool thing that Bryce was showing me. 

This early spring season is a minefield of flashbacks. Nine years ago around this time is when everything went spectacularly awry, I ended up in the emergency room, and then I had a mental breakdown...which led to us ending our adoption journey. Eleven years ago in February was our last attempt to complete an IVF cycle. 

In spring, I can focus on other things for the most part -- the flowers starting to pop up and unfurl in my gardens, the joys of Spring Break, our first outside ice cream of the season. I can take that flashback and redirect it to what is here, and now. A season of renewal. 

I just can't quite control the twisted lip and teary eyes that come first. 

Hellebores popping up from the leaf litter I'm still leaving for baby fireflies

My first daffodil! (These are naturalized, which is why there's grass, too)