I read somewhere once that most people believe years almost go in an order where some are tough and then the next one is easier, an ebb and a flow that allows people to catch their breath. I always think about people who live the same life every year. Who don't progress or more forward or backward and can look at their entire calendar and know exactly how it's going to play out. I lived in fear of becoming that person. I didn't know what caused it; the stagnant cycle of remaining the same. I was so afraid of turning thirty before this year came and now that it's here I've never felt more myself. This year feels big. A lot of things that have been festering in my life for thirty some years are really working themselves out and it feels like our deck of cards is starting to lay out. I almost don't want to acknowledge it because the pessimist in me fears it'll be snatched away. This year started with us working on my immigration situation. Come February and we're in the system, we're moving forward, it feels surreal.
I think having a family has always scared me. Being a mother is an absolute fear of mine. I think it is truly my greatest fear. Two years ago we started trying to have a baby. I say that very loosely, it was more of a - if it happens, it happens - type of deal. Last year when Shay stopped working at his guitar company we started looking at the idea as more of a realistic possibility. When things weren't happening naturally we took a look at some of our tests and found some infertility issues. Being the absolute pessimist in the relationship, I somewhat settled into not hoping or thinking and more so being sad and mourning what could be. Shay shifted gears, he researched and worked on everything he could do to help naturally get us to a starting point. Yesterday we tested and for the first time, there were swimmers. We went from no chance to suddenly a chance. I don't know what this means moving forward but it does mean that there is a push forward. I haven't really processed any of it and my brain hasn't really caught up with the news. I'm scared, terrified but also open. This morning I felt compelled to write about it. I knew it was a big moment. A big stepping stone. So here I am, writing, because if one day one of those swimmers helps become a little thing I want it to know his or her father was overjoyed last night. He told me he felt like "he had a purpose." My husband doesn't say things to say them, he doesn't mince words or just fluff up kind poetry. His honesty is the most beautiful light in him and last night he was smiling ear to ear because he wants this. And so the decision and worry and fears don't matter because if we get the chance to have a baby, it will be loved and cherished and cared for by the same man who loves and cherishes and cares for me and we'd be the luckiest little energies.
