Life is but a....

A candle is burning next to me as I type tonight.  I lit it as part of the "World Wide Wave of Light," which honors pregnancy and infant loss - today is the national day of remembrance.  Having never been pregnant, I've not personally lost a pregnancy or child, but many of my dear friends have lost their beautiful little ones.  They are each in my heart, today and always.  This candle is lit for them.

 

To be very honest, a little bit this candle is lit for our losses too.  I know that, because I was never pregnant, our losses aren't actually considered losses - but the loss of that which I've never had is so incredibly real to us, to me.  Our losses never had hearts, names, or faces, but they are real losses.  There are no days for this kind of loss, though - this grief of nothingness, so I truly hope no one minds that just a little part of that candle flickers for our losses too.  

In other news, yesterday was Ar and my seventh anniversary.  We had an AMAZING time away at a resort that's just a few hours away!!!  It was purely delightful!!!  I felt like we were practically newlyweds again, only seven years more experienced - seven years more sure of each other and in our ability to weather horrific storms together - and seven years even more in love than we were back then.  It was wonderful!!!    

AF, who has never done me any favors, finally did me one.  She waited till today to come - a miracle, to be sure.  After all, she was expected early last week.  When she didn't come on time, I feared that she would come only in time to negatively impact our weekend.  Please note: being the beat down dog that I am, I never once suspected I might be pregnant.  Anyhow, I'm so thankful she didn't come till today, because our weekend just wouldn't have been quite the same.  It was a lovely and much needed get-away.

I only experienced a few moments of IF melancholy while we were away, as I was determined to set aside  our troubles and just be... together.  It's impossible to forget, of course.  Forgetting IF would be like forgetting to bring my nose with me...  

One of the melancholy moments came as we were floating on tubes down the "lazy river" at the resort's water park.  It was so relaxing that my mind just quieted... I was actually singing (to myself, luckily for the rest of the resort guests), "...merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream..."   Then the thought suddenly struck, "Is it a dream or a nightmare?"  Cheery, huh?  Sorry, but as surely as my nose really is still on my face, these thoughts do come.  As these thoughts of IF danced mockingly in my head, I remembered a quote I heard recently, “Some of us think holding on makes us strong; but sometimes it is letting go.” (Herman Hesse)

Is it time to let go of this hope?  It's never time to let go of Hope, of the Hopest of Hopes, but is it time to stop hoping to be a mom?  This is where my mind went as I floated merrily down the lazy river.   Part of me so wants to give up, because holding on this tightly hurts so very much - yet letting go feels so unacceptable.    

A little later, Ar and I talked about this, while relaxing in the jacuzzi.  It was a quiet, wet, and short talk, but I'm glad we had it.  It's important that I keep sharing my feelings with him, even though I feared I'd ruin our loveliness.  Thankfully, he's not like that - loveliness goes on.  As for what he thinks: he doesn't think it's time to let go yet, though he knows our chances are incredibly slim.  He wants me to take the lead on whether to let go or keep trying.

I may as well add that though my mind is turning to those thoughts of letting go, it also sometimes wonders if it's time to just throw all caution to the wind and find a way to get an IVF - no matter what it takes.  (Even though I can't figure out what it would actually take for us to get there...  Robbing a bank?  Growing, and selling, illegal substances in a balcony greenhouse?  Discovering the fountain of youth?  Time traveling back to when I was younger and thinner?  The possibilities are almost endless...  Harrumph!!!)   

Well, my candle is still burning bright in love and support of my friends and all their lost little ones - and yes, for our losses too. 

"When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; And through the rivers, they will not overflow you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be scorched, Nor will the flame burn you." (Isaiah 43:2)