NaBloPoMo. Control.November 2, 2012 at 8:31 am | Posted in And I ran (I ran so far away), NaBloPoMo | 4 Comments
So it’s NaBloPoMo. I’ve also never participated in it, so I figure, what the hell? I’ll do it this year and see what happens.
If you’re keeping track, I also committed to NaNoWriMo.
Which is starting relatively quietly – I wrote nearly 1000 words yesterday. Can’t say I love the story’s beginning, but it’s really NOT about the story. It’s about me committing to writing. Daily. Even though things get in the way.
So. Here we go.
After I met with my running coach two days ago, I felt this HUGE sense of relief. Finally, a PLAN! A goal, something I could work towards in the short term!
And so I posted about the fact that I really am considering being done. Which I am. On more levels than just feeling like I’m tired. Our life is good. It’s simple. As Lucky grows, he gets more and more independent. And man, the freedom is so NICE. Our life is manageable right now, and fun, and we have a lot of flexibility to do what we want to. There are lots of reasons to quit.
But there are the remaining embryos to think about, too. If we walk away, will I regret not using them?
Luckily the issue isn’t be black or white; there are a lot of paths of action between walking away completely and actively cycling.
I can walk away from them for now, and see how I feel in 3, 6, 9 months. Maybe I’ll want to do another cycle. Who knows?
The real issue, for me, is one of CONTROL.
I’ve gotten a lot better since the days of trying for Lucky, that’s for sure, when I spent hours researching what we could possibly do next to get us pregnant. I don’t have the time, or the energy to waste that much time now. Because I KNOW that getting pregnant is not in my control.
I still have a hard time living in that reality, though. For the past couple of cycles, I’ve let go of the oars and let the universe dictate what happens to my boat.
And both times? I was dashed upon the rocks. My boat was destroyed, and I was left to rebuild the damn thing. With waves crashing over me, on a tiny island in the middle of an angry ocean.
I suppose that’s why I feel so much better when I feel like I have some measure of control, of choice. When I have a PLAN, like right now, to get healthy again and ultimately run another marathon next year, I feel like, finally, I can exert some influence over my body. I can say, I want to run a marathon, and train for it and RUN the damn marathon. It’s not FULLY up to me, of course – injuries are common, and I’ve been injured twice in the past year – but with patience and common sense, you can overcome it.
And man, the feeling of having accomplished running a marathon? It’s like nothing else. Whereas cycling makes me loathe my body, with running a marathon you have no choice but to respect what your body can DO. My body carried me through 26.2 miles, and I finished upright, and man, I feel AWESOME and strong and empowered and I LOVE myself.
It’s one of the few times I’ve discovered, hey, you know, my body is pretty fucking awesome.
And I’ve lost that with family building. Intellectually, I KNOW it’s not my fault. But man, repeated IVF failure (and now pregnancy loss) has washed away any positive self-esteem I had about my body. I’m left with an empty uterus and can barely look at myself in the mirror.
I need to love my body again. I need to find peace.
I am not sure where I’m going with this post.
I suppose it’s to acknowledge, out loud, that having a plan makes me feel better. That the times I’ve let go and ceded control to the universe, I’ve gotten hurt. That it’s hard work, this letting go of the need to control my life, and that it’s OKAY if I can’t do it all at once.
And that I need to forgive myself for all of this Fail. With my HEART. The best way I know how to do that is to do something which makes me realize how much I love my body.
And it’s okay if I want to stop treatments. Put as much distance between my heart and the heartbreak of this last cycle, live as if we’ll never have another baby, see if I can handle that, leave those last three embryos on ice until I know for sure that I’m done.
It’s okay, all of it.
I don’t need to know everything now.