DH just arrived home on Friday after being away on business for four weeks…it was so great to have him back home. However, I am now sitting at the airport waiting to fly out for two weeks! I can’t wait for the travelling to end, it has been hectic these last two months.
I am heading overseas for business for one week, then to my mother’s for an additional week. My aunt is in palliative care, so I am going home to say goodbye. So ironic…the last three years have been about creating life and now I have to say goodbye to a life well-lived. I know many of my fellow IF’ers have had to say goodbye to parents, family and friends during their IF journey. It is always a difficult event to walk through, but has me reflecting on the dichotomy of life and death.
Death is the end we all know is inevitable, but we all hope we have a long and fulfilling life. Also that the end is a peaceful transition. When you are ill, as my aunt is, you fight with everything you have to delay the inevitable. Sometimes even beating it. New life is a blessing, but with IF it is a miracle! The emotional journey through death and life for those of us who struggle with fertility actually has more similarities than differences. We mourn the loss of our fertile dreams and brave the challenge of fighting against all odds for our miracle. We go through the grief and loss cycle the same as mourning a loved one. We revel in the miracles of science the way those who are given an extension on life do.
I am not looking forward to saying goodbye to my beloved aunt. It will be hard and emotional. However IF has taught me to take challenge one day at a time…and sometimes one minute at a time. I will be grateful to have had this time to say goodbye to my aunt and tap into the strength I have built through my own many challenges.
Life is hard….it really is, but full of wondrous miracles that peep out every now and again. I will keep looking for the miracle in everything. Hope.
Life is a gamble. Sometimes you win and sometimes you lose, but human nature is envy. Envy of the winner. It is what it is.
I haven’t posted in a while. Mostly because I just didn’t have anything to say. I have been so busy, we are going on leave in a week and I have so much to do before we go. I have really not been thinking much about IF, we have our follow-up appointment with the FS on Monday, so we’ll see what he says.
It is good I have had this time…I feel so much more myself, less hormonal after the last 6 months of two IVFs and three miscarriages. It is good to have this space. I will see what happens on Monday, my mind is open to the possibilities.
On another note….I have decided to start my own business next year with three others. It is a big move, but one I have been thinking about for a while. I feel so good about this decision. Life must go on…eh?
I saw this picture of this tree and I started thinking about what a great life a tree has, so still, so silent, so peaceful. So for a brief moment I actually pictured myself as a tall tree in a field enjoying the view and the birds and all of the emotions that this picture emits. Then I realised that trees also have challenges as they are exposed to the elements and vulnerable to diseases. Life is not all flowers and sunshine, it is a magnificent mixture of happy and sad, excitement and disappointment. I know this well, but it is so fascinating that I still look for the greener grass or the smooth side of the rock. Human nature drives us in the direction of utopia, but I cannot define utopia. I thought a tree swaying gently in the breeze would be a calm, gentle place I wish to be…but it would also be full of unknowns and challenges. What if the farmer who owns the field decided to chop me down? Or what if I was struck by lightening as I am the only tree in the field? Or what if a swarm of insects decided to eat all my leaves?
When I reflect on my life it has been a true mix of happy and sad, excitement and disappointment. Just the way it is supposed to be. I am very proud of who I am and where I am in my life. I have weathered many storms and have been battered about like a tree in heavy wind. But although a tree will mend itself, the damaged limbs and missing leaves stand testament to the storms it has come up against. So I am a tree. I am battered and bruised in ways I never imagined, but I am healing. As I heal I will take a new shape. One that may not be as perfectly formed, but still a beautiful tree full of life and swaying gently to the rythym of the breeze. I am a tree.