Moving On

I am confounded by the fact that it is already the end of March. It has been over three months since my successful IVF cycle came to a devastatingly screeching halt. And just this week, I actually thought to myself, "I'm finally starting to move on."

What does "moving on" look like for me, you may ask. Well, for starters, it involves closure. By some strange and masochistic twist of fate, I received two key pieces of mail this week: one, a bill for $40.00 due to my OB-GYN at Jefferson for services rendered last winter before my March loss. The other, a refund check for $140.00 from Abington Reproductive Medicine for the months of embryo cryo-storage that we did not utilize. Nothing like an unintentional (but nonetheless stinging) slap in the face to force you to face the reality of your situation. So there's that. I'm no longer a patient of either practice, my accounts having been settled and my file having been shelved in a musty basement somewhere.

Then there's the more tangible aspects of "moving on." Inquiring about places to consign my maternity clothes. This was a much bigger deal than you might think. I haven't been able to look in that guest room closet for months. Cleaning out Daniel's playroom and storing away most of his baby toys. Offering much of my gently-used baby gear to my sister-in-law, who is due in a couple of months. These small actions represent a much more significant step for me, which is to admit and accept that I will never again give birth to my own biological child.

Interestingly enough, "moving on" also holds some positive connotations for me. I've been hitting the gym hard, working to get my pre-"three failed pregnancies in two years" body back. I have a long way to go, but I'm fighting the muffin top with all my might. I'm considering going back to work: initially as a substitute teacher, then maybe full time when Daniel starts kindergarten. I'm rediscovering my identity as a woman, beyond being a mother. I'm searching for things that fulfill me, beyond my precious child. And that is a GOOD thing!

And then there's this: I'm exploring the idea of adoption. Reading books and articles, talking to people, gathering phone numbers. Deciding on domestic vs. international. Adjusting the image I've always had for the future, and learning to like the way it looks. With or without a second child who may or may not look like me. Finding something every day that's wonderful about having only one child. And being okay with that!

I'm nothing if not a work in progress, but I'm moving forward.