Tomorrow I am 32 years old. Tomorrow is also exactly 1 month since we said goodbye to our little Petey. Happy birthday to me. ::Sigh::
As you can imagine, I'm not very into celebrating. I am trying so hard not to make this day even more loaded than it already is but it's nearly impossible. My birthday wish this year is for the day to be over as quickly as possible.
Last week I got an email from a friend asking about making birthday plans and she wrote: "How can we celebrate
the birth of our precious 'Chickin'?" The combination of the words "birth"
and "precious" made my heart stop. It's so dumb that something so wholly unrelated could make me burst into tears and ruin the rest of my day. The triggers are just everywhere.
I miss my Petey. I miss the amazing little life that s/he was and what s/he should someday have been able to be but never will. I miss being able to daydream of our upcoming future family without having to temper those dreams due to the unknowns of IF. I miss having the knowledge that this summer those dreams would finally turn into our reality. I miss feeling free of this fear that we may never be able to have children. I miss feeling free.
Never did I think I would be turning 32 and still trying for our first child. I feel old and tired. I am trying not to feel defeated. We are even further back in this infertility journey than we were 6 months ago because now I am more scarred, more broken, more fragile, more fearful.
I found this quote last night and will try to listen to its wisdom. I will try to surrender, to let go, and to have faith. I will try to "move on" from this pain. Somehow.