Maybe it’s that we’ve been searching high and low, far and wide, his and hers for a solution to so much infertility. Maybe it’s that I over-watched “The Goonies” as a kid so the idea of a good treasure hunt really appeals to me. Or maybe it’s that my introduction to geocaching was so dang amusing and involved one of our best friends in the whole wide world whose tenacity unearthed a trove of adorable little things including this: a friendship bracelet oddly reminiscent of something I would have crafted circa 1985. Circa “The Goonies.”
Unearthing new hobbies (and buried treasure) is rad. So we invested in a hand-held GPS device and spent much of this weekend trolling metro Boston for caches large and small, leaving little plastic pandas in our wake, logging our finds. Fun and effective. In the hunt, we established for ourselves a new purpose. Mission Maybe-Baby to the back-burner! We’re within 23 feet of a carefully-concealed cache that is ours for the opening if only we could…aha!
In matters of prospective parenthood, we’ve been less successful: one cancelled IUI to nurse a giant, ovary-compromising cyst that developed post-latest round of gonadotropins. This cycle we’ll undergo IUI: The Fifth (And Last). And though we’d hoped we’d never ever come close to requiring IVF to get knocked up, we’re busy making plans for that embryo overage. A girl can dream.
If that petri dish were a sweet cache, it would contain the very beginnings of our first kid, and yours, the answers to life’s most pressing reproductive riddles, maybe a cure for what ails us (or you, or your best friend, or a stranger). No giant pirate ship full of rich stuff would be so awesome.