what a difference seven years makes…

I mean, duh. Of course seven years make a difference. 

I’ve spent most of my 30s wondering if I will ever have a baby.  Not when, if.

It all began more than seven years ago, when I learned I would need surgery to remove a massive benign growth from my uterus. Seven years ago today, I went under the knife for the first time. I was scared. It was major surgery — basically, a c-section without the baby. 

I thought I was resolving my fertility issues before they even began. Even now, it’s hard to believe how very wrong I was. 

The story continues, of course, but those who have visited before know how that part ends… 

Then this time last year, I was in the midst of our final treatment — an FET that had virtually no chance of success in my womb tomb. When it failed, I was devastated. But not entirely surprised. 

And now? Now our lives look so different. 

No more do even I count the days of my cycle. If I did, it would be more to detect the onset of menopause than anything else. Sad but true that. 

No more do I secretly wonder and quietly hope that I will get that miracle BFP. What a fucking waste of energy!

No more do I fret over all those months and years we wasted, and waited… 

Now it seems that our path has taken us so far from that course. Yet our journey continues. And the end goal is still the same: parenthood. 

I’m sure I will think (and write) more about all we have lost along the way…

But right now I am thinking of what we still have to gain: our family. Our little family may soon open to a whole new way of life and love, our love magnified by opening our hearts to a new child. This baby will not be borne of us, but chosen for us. And that is an especially beautiful thing.

The beginning of spring seems a particularly poignant time to mark this new season of hope, normally so foreign to me. Though I am mindful of what happens to all things that bloom, right now I find myself gently holding the simple beauty of the mere potential for new life…

~ by luna on March 21, 2009.

9 Responses to “what a difference seven years makes…”

  1. Why do I get the feeling that when I find my child I will look book on these early spring days with nostalgia – and yearn for mornings lazing in bed, time for blogging and reading and watching movies uninterrupted? Oh, the thought makes me smile.

  2. Oh, and thank you for your post. As always, it makes me feel connected.

  3. Beautiful post – it’s nice knowing it’s spring somewhere. I sense a lot of hope on blogs lately. And I like the flower below, what is it?

  4. The “bloom” theme is so refreshing. This is truly a time of promise and expectancy.

    And saying so long to winter and desolation.

  5. we learn so much as we go along. if we only knew then what we know now…just a lovely post of new beginnings.

  6. It must have been so very hard to let go of old dreams and to hold fast to new hopes.

    Thinking of you as you look forward to new beginnings.

  7. One of the things I tell myself as I travel this road is that once I arrive I’ll appreciate the destination so much more when I get there. The thought keeps me somewhat sane most days.

  8. […] now seven year old son. I will always remember how old this boy is because he was born soon after my first fibroid surgery. I remember as I watched my then-friend grow larger I wondered whether I’d ever be able to get […]

  9. […] that, it made the transition to adoption easy, emotionally. Honestly it came as a relief when I stopped counting cycle days a few years ago. We reclaimed our lives from infertility. Without a doubt, infertility left its […]

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