Heal

I remember the first time I really injured myself. I was 10 yrs old and riding my bike down a steep hill. Somehow, I managed to gain too much speed and was not skilled at being able to handle the incline. I ended up crashing, sliding along the asphalt. The pain was blinding. I managed to make it to my location, and as I began to clean myself up realized how much pain I was actually in. Panicked, I called my dad who came to calm me down and help clean my wounds.

In the years since, I've managed to injure myself in more interesting and memorable ways. There was the climbing accident that almost took my life, the large metal door that slammed down on my arm, the car accident that even the paramedics marveled about me walking away from and, finally, the skiing accident that left me with a black eye on Valentine's Day. You get the idea. One thing I've learned over time with injury is that there's a pattern: the initial shock from being wounded, followed by the pain setting in and me realizing how severe the situation is. Then comes the healing; the aches and pains of my body trying to regain normalcy. Sometime with healing it's just a matter of ice, a bath and some TLC. Other times more aggressive measures need to be taken.

Following the happy news last week that left me convinced the universe was out to get me, I realized that I needed aggressive measures to begin recovery from this recent miscarriage. What I had done up to this point as simply to bandage the wound and hope that healing wound come quickly. What I failed to do was remove the cause of this injury, causing the wound to deepen and begin to fester. So, with Grey's initiation, I agreed to meet up with one of his coworker Tina, her husband and 11 month old daughter E for brunch.

Grey has known Tina for many years and has always been on friendly terms with her. A few months ago, though, he learned that she too was infertile and had recently resolved. They began talking, Tina sharing her story and Grey filling her in on our treatments. The more I learned about E, the more I hoped that we could have a similar outcome of having such a happy ending. Then January happened. And then March. With this past news, Tina offered to meet up for coffee to talk. And until Sunday, I was reluctant.

You see, E is adopted. And though I've been open to adoption, it wasn't until Sunday that I was ready to hear her story.

Meeting E gave me hope. To see this little girl who came from a less-than-ideal situation be so happy, energetic and vibrant. And to see her parents completely in love and filled with joy. Tina looked at me at one point and with tears in her eyes said something that left me choking back tears. "There was a period where I had this hole in me. This child-shaped blackhole. Now I feel filled."

Following brunch, Grey and I began to talk about how we would do this. Meeting E made me realize that I want to go the open adoption route. I want to meet the birth mother of my child, forming some sort of relationship so that one day I can tell him/her about how they came into the world. But most importantly, I felt like we may have found our calling, our path.

Today I had my meeting with Dee. Like all of you, she sympathized about the news from last week, telling me "it must feel like the universe has shit on you." How true. Yet telling her about E and my feelings had her smiling softly. I think she sees how this fits too.

Our session was spend attacking the image of my broken body, helping me remove the IF/loss shaped knife from my heart and cleaning the wound. She helped stitch my broken heart back together, wrapping it lovingly with fresh bandages and helping me find my new mantra.

It will be okay. Some way, some how.

Tonight I feel the dull ache from this most recent wound, but for the first time in a long time I no longer feel despair. Mind you, I'm not brimming with optimism and hope that this next FET will work and we'll bring home a biological child. But I do have hope that there will be a child. My faith is restored in wrapping my arms around them and I find myself day-dreaming of that moment, that day.

CD4. Five more days till the SIS. Tami-scrambled at Submerged sent me the BEST socks to wear that that appointment. May they work their magic.

Thank you Tami!!!