It’s strange to me how one small thing can change how I see things. Or at least change what I do next. A call or a text can make me decide to clean my whole house. A photo found in a book makes me decide to go through all of our clothes and donate tons. I didn’t say it always makes sense, yet this is how I’ve always been. This time it was a letter in the mail. A letter from the fertility clinic I went to for years. The ones with a 93% success rate or something. Guess I’m in that other percentile. A simple letter requesting a survey done made me realize I have finally done what I said I’d do over a year ago. I really have let go of the thought of a baby for now.
For now I say, because I still in my heart and soul know one wee baby is still missing from my life. How and when this will happen I don’t know. Now isn’t the time. This I know. I could blame it on money, or my realization that I’d likely need IVF for an attempt to maybe work. I can blame it on the Natalie situation.
The truth is probably a bit muddled with all of it. There is the money piece and the I want to move into the mountains to give Natalie and I more chance of a normal life piece. There is the part where it’s really fucking hard to keep trying something that hasn’t worked. Emotionally. Physically. Mentally. All of it is hard.
The reality is that maybe adoption is the answer for me. I’m not ready to look into it yet, but at 33 years old I feel like I have time. Time to move. To build a house and start over once more. Time to decide how and when and where things can happen. Time. I finally feel like I have it.
One little letter. The letter I shredded. No need to bother. I haven’t set foot in their doors this entire year. I can’t answer the how have these changes effected your experience questions. Check mark. Done. For now at least.
The second was a hidden stash. The baby stash. The things I couldn’t help but buy each time I thought my latest attempt was successful. I hid that stuff from myself as much as anyone else. Hidden under pillows and old sweaters in a wooden trunk. Yesterday though, I knew it was time to get rid of it all. When it’s my turn again, I will buy new things. Two boxes sent to people who need these things more than I need to keep hiding them. Check. Done. There are no more baby items in my home.
Check. Check. I feel better. Mostly. If only there was a check mark for my heart.