I believe whole heartedly the obstacles that are thrown in our way are what makes us who we are. Or rather, how we handle those obstacles is what shapes us. But sometimes wouldn't it be nice to think of smooth sailing?
It would be at this point that the figure of optimism pops up on my left shoulder, not unlike the angel equivolant and says," Every difficult thing in life can be turned into a positive. It's all in how you look at things."
In the next second the pessimistic downer frowns and proclaims, "No. This just sucks."
Sometimes it simply takes too much energy to think positively when your spirit is crushed.
Hopefully the gift of time can allow perspective. It did for me, thankfully.
In the past week I have been reminded several times of how many wonderful people have come into my life since starting PFM. Infertility and all it entails has definitely been awful.
But my perspective has changed and I do not struggle so immensely to understand why "having" a family created such a devastatingly difficult experience.
I am still amazed at how sharing a similar struggle strikes an instant commonality. Misery doesn't love company, but it sure as heck can make you feel better. Knowing you're not alone in anything somehow takes the edge off. Perhaps it's because you see that someone else who is struggling with the same predicament is still getting by.
They are still waking up in the morning, going to work, laughing, eating pizza rolls, folding laundry, and putting one foot in front of the other. Maybe being around someone who is struggling or has struggled from a similar situation is helpful because when you are down, their companionship through understanding can get you by. And, when you're both hearing the voice of pessimism at least you don't have to expend much energy explaining why things suck. It's simply understood.
What I'm trying to say is that I am grateful for all of the people I have met. I hate that there are so many people struggling and feeling pain because having a baby or babies has posed such an unpredictably hard endeavor. But without infertility and motherhood through adoption I would be missing out on some really great friendships- relationships on all levels that have played such a poignant part in the re-shaping of my presupposed adult life.
Infertility changed my path. It does not define me, however it is hard for me to picture any life other than this one. The one where I get to fulfill my passion for writing ( I tried to get a book of poems published at age 8. Thanks Mrs. T!), develop the career that I love, see my baby grow every day, appreciate the little things in life, and understand that tough times are just one part of life.
Here's the optimistic chant for you: things do work out. Some how, some way.
I'm still figuring it all out and I'd like to think that I will have the foresight to realize that if I'm still figuring it all out in my 80's, then I'm still learning- about myself, others, and the wonderment of life.