The Glass is Now Half Full

I can't help it. I have to go to that deep place again. If you aren't interested in being a voyeur into a small portion of my soul, you shouldn't read this blog. The process that Dave and I have gone through for almost three years has changed me as a person. I am happy that I can look at myself and recognize it. It has only been during the recent weeks that I have arrived in this peaceful place.

My first epiphany came when I learned of Mom's lump in her breast. The Tisha that you all know would have laid in bed at night worrying about it. I would have cried to Dave (and Nish) about it, expecting the worst. I never would have seen the possibility for it to be "no big deal". But, in reality, I have been positive about it. I just know that everything is going to be okay. Breast cancer is a big monster, but I know we are going to tackle it. There is no other option. Sure, I am upset, but being upset isn't going to eliminate the monster. Information, treatment, support, and a positive attitude will get my family through this. That is what I have to offer.

This was my first clue to my newfound inner peace.

Rewind back to July 2007. I was in the lowest place of my life. We had been trying to conceive for 15 months. We had been in fertility treatment for seven months. I wish I were a better writer, because I know that I do not have the words to describe the pain that I was experiencing. This was the first time in my life that I wasn't able to work hard for something and achieve it. I had no control. And this was the goal that I wanted to achieve more than anything.

I don't know how infertility treatment brings you to your knees, but it does it well. It feels like grieving the death of a close loved one for two weeks and then immediately overflowing with excitement and anticipation for the best thing that could ever happen to you for two weeks. Only to immediately grieve again for two weeks. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. This is the infertility rollercoaster. And (although Dave was great) I felt like I was alone. Noone else can possibly understand the big black hole that is growing inside me - not even Dave, not even my mom.

I found myself crying in Hy-Vee when an unfit mother (in my opinion) was yelling at her dirty, barefoot child one aisle over from me. Twice, I cried so hard I hyperventilated. So many of my friends were getting pregnant, having babies, saying "it happened the first month we tried" and it would bring me to tears . . . in private . . . daily. I felt guilty for being jealous. I felt like a bad friend. I felt like I was failing Dave. I felt like it wasn't fair. Why me, God? It doesn't make sense. I know I have a lot to offer as a mother.

I finally got to a place where I knew that there was a master plan that was bigger than me. God's plan. I am not overtly religious, but I know that God has a plan for my family. This was a baby step. I thought that if I could force myself to accept the plan - before I even knew what it was - that I could get pregnant. Release control. I can make myself do that. Try again. It takes time. It is a process.

Once I got to the point that I could talk about our journey without crying, I liked talking about it. It made me feel better, not so lonely. The more people that know, the more people that will be in our corner. My team will knock you out, infertility. So, many months have passed. We have had a one-year break from the hormones, the rollercoaster, the quick trips to Columbia, the pregnancy tests, and it has been nice. I feel renewed. I still don't know the plan, but I am okay with the plan. Whatever it is.

I feel like I have gained so much during this process. Gratitude. Peace. Love. I am lucky. I appreciate and love Dave in a way that I may not have experienced had we not had this opportunity. If our marriage can survive this . . . This has confirmed the importance of many true friendships. I owe a debt to each of you. You know who you are. I have learned of my own strength. Parenthood will be a little sweeter for us, taking this path to get there. Our priorities will be in check when we get what we have been working for.

So, on the eve of riding the roller coaster again, I am excited. I am ready.