Scars Heal.

April 9, 2014 at 4:59 pm | Posted in Moving On., My life, Mythical #2, The End of Trying | 10 Comments

After my last miscarriage, when my grief over our struggle was its strongest, I couldn’t ever imagine feeling okay ever again.

I couldn’t imagine hearing pregnancy announcements without feeling the slice of it along my heart; another cut on top of the many wounds inflicted, over the years, by our infertility.

I couldn’t imagine seeing pictures of pregnant bellies, of newborn babies, of siblings, without feeling the momentary loss of breath; as if someone had kicked me square in the chest.

I couldn’t imagine answering the question, is he your only? without feeling that spasm of guilt and anger and sadness and pain.

I don’t know what happened.

Only that it did.

But a couple of weeks ago, a friend announced her pregnancy on Bacefook, in the most obnoxious-to-a-bitter-infertile way possible – a shirt over her barely-there bump with a cute announcement that there was a baby in there.

And I was really, really excited for her.

Today, my friend D and I were chatting, and she mentioned a friend of hers who’s been trying for a year for her second child (and gone through loss and an ectopic), how a couple days ago, a month before her first RE appointment, got a +HPT and a decent beta number.

And I put out into the universe the thought: please, let it work out for her.

I won’t tell you that everything is hunky dory, because it’s not. My relationship with my body is still incredibly strained, which as a result, has made being intimate with my husband really, really hard.

I still feel a prickle of sadness when I see pictures of older siblings with their baby sisters and brothers. I watch my niece and nephew play together, and wish that we were able to give Lucky that kind of childhood.

But it’s not a source of anguish anymore.

Mostly, I’m happy right now.

I love my family. I love my incessant monologuer, who tells me stories quite literally from the moment he wakes up until he falls asleep. (And oftentimes, he falls asleep in mid story.) I love our dog Happy with his goofball antics and incredibly tolerant nature – even when he’s overwrought:  OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG A PERSON!!! I LOOOOOVE YOU!!!! LOVE ME BAAAAAAAAAACK! I love my never-take-time-for-himself husband, even when he works too much and sleeps too little because he’s focused on being a great dad and husband.

I love that it’s spring, and my running has gotten easier, and I’m really looking forward to the Maine Coast Marathon because a) my family will be there on Mother’s Day, and b) I’m TOTALLY making them take me for lobster and pie afterwards.

(Yes, I might be at the point in marathon training where I am singularly focused on food. In mah belly. When are we eating next?)

But mostly I love that we’re not Stuck anymore, wondering about what the next year of my life will look like. Putting decisions on hold because of potential daycare bills, or nursery plans, or potential pregnancy complications.

We KNOW what our family looks like – right now. And it’s pretty damn good, all things considered.