In June, I turned 36. I’m now officially closer to 40 than 30. Le sigh. A friend wished me birthday greetings and expressed that she hoped it was a happy one. And you know what? It was. For the first time in years, I enjoyed my birthday again. But more than that, it made me reflect a bit on my life. I’m happy.
I haven’t been truly happy in a very long time. Infertility and loss have been ravaging my life for so long, that my happy was taken away. I was going through the motions of living for so long. There were happy moments, sure, but I wasn’t truly happy.
Having Max, being his momma, has completed me. I would like to think that if there was never to be a child in my arms, I would have found a way to resolve and be happy and childless — but I don’t think I would have ever been Perhaps one finds closure and goes on, but for me, there always would be something missing. But I’m one of the lucky ones. I have my perfect rainbow baby.
There are lots of things in my life that aren’t perfect or that I would love if they were different. But nothing impacted me and made me feel so powerless to change as did infertility and loss. Those things I would like to change now are relatively trivial. They are not the essence to my happiness.
It’s a lot to be on a little guy’s shoulders, but all he needs to do is continue to exist. I feel whole again. Don’t get me wrong. I am still infertile, I am still a momma without her first baby in her arms. And there are days when those things still have the ability to gut me. In fact, just the other day I came across the last ultrasound picture we had of Abby (I actually received it when I went for an ultrasound for Max and told the tech that I regretted not asking for a print out b/c it was the last time I saw her alive. She went into their system and was able to retrieve an image and print it for me. I had no idea they saved them! I couldn’t add it to her book because of the finality of it all and it has been sitting on our key rack for over a year now) and it resulted in a big, fat, ugly cry. I sobbed my heart out while my poor perfect son was snugly wrapped to my back probably wondering what the heck was going on! Despite the occasional gutting, I’m happy again. Even on the really tough days when I’m sure I’m failing as a mom and I lose my cool because why won’t he just lay still while I change his diaper?! — I’m happy. And it feels good. It makes all my other problems matter just a little bit less when I look at my beautiful son.
Which brings me back to this blog — I think I might be done with it. It’s been such an important part of my story — sharing my soul with friends and strangers. Helping people understand and maybe reaching someone who felt alone in their world. But what do I have to offer now? A glimpse inside my life looks much like a look at any other mom’s life. I’m not interested in writing a mommy blog. I don’t want to tarnish this blog with that. Not that there is anything wrong with that — it’s just not the direction I want to take with this space. Also — I don’t feel much like writing anymore — and I think the happy can be blamed for that. I used this space to share my fears and frustrations and now any negatives I have seem like complaining when I write about them. I don’t want this blog to have that tone either.
So… this might be it. I reserve the right to come back if I feel like I need to, but this might be my final farewell. I am eternally grateful for the people I have “met” through writing this blog — I may not comment, but I still check in on you from time to time. And I am thankful for all my real life people who read along with my pain and offered encouragement and compassion — it meant the world to me.
Thank you, all of you for taking the time to take a glimpse inside.