One year ago this morning, I was in the passenger seat of our car, headed to the hospital for my laparoscopy.
I was hopeful - hopeful that the surgery would go well, hopeful that it would bring with it a quick and easy recovery, and hopeful that it would eventually lead way to a successful pregnancy.
For the most part, those hopes came true.
But for the one that didn't, I have to wonder if things were meant to be the way they are now. If things had happened according to my hopes, I wouldn't be as involved with RESOLVE as I am now. I wouldn't be in graduate school. I wouldn't have been able to quit a job that made me so unhappy.
We wouldn't be adopting.
I joked this week in my exhausted and delirious state that, "Infertility builds character." Only it wasn't a joke. It's true. The past year - the surgery, the failing, the break, and the decision - all of those things built character. They put us on the right path. Even though it still hurts, and the wound is still so fresh, I know that saying good-bye to my fertility will help me forward. I have a daily reminder of it: the pain. While one year brought us this far in our journey to have a baby, it hasn't taken me far on the journey to regain my health.
That's not what I'm going to think about today.
Instead, I'm going to think about the hope I felt on that cool, February morning, and that same hope I'll feel walking out the door this morning. It's the hope that we are making the right decision. It's the hope that we will someday get what we've worked so hard for. It's the hope that our baby is out there somewhere, and that we are doing everything in our power to bring him or her home to us.