Picking myself up off the floor...

Today is a better day. Even yesterday afternoon was better. Re-reading my post from yesterday I almost tangibly hold the despair, anguish, and fear. The hope I tried to convince myself I felt was more desperate than real.

I suppose I hadn't given myself enough opportunity to process. I was so ready to think that everything was going to be so much more difficult, that I barely gave myself the chance to process all the information I had been given.

So we have to go for testing. And they'll give us results of some kind- positive or negative. Will it change the fact that I truly believe the next pregnancy will stick? No. Does it change anything about the fact that I've lost two babies? No. Does it mean we could have done something about all this earlier. No.

So it doesn't change all that much. I may have to take medication to strengthen my cycles, or I may not. If there's a genetic issue, it'll probably be a numbers game. Roll the dice and see what happens. I want to seriously believe that it won't happen every time. I have to believe that.

So we'll play the game of probability and put it out to the universe that we really want this and maybe things will go our way if we only give ourselves up to it- I've been humbled. I've also found my strength again. The warrior has found her way back into the game to fight for the dream once again.

So bring it on. Tests, fears, waits and whatever else we need to accept. We'll face it all... together. Because my husband and I saw our counsellor for our last session yesterday and came to the realization that after everything, after all the tears and the arguments and the pain, after it all, we're okay. We always were. We had just forgotten to let each other in. It was our last session unless we feel the need to go back to get help processing everything.

Tomorrow is a new day, and so is today. I've also realized that I had been holding my breath. Letting life pass me by on the chance that I'll be pregnant, or still pregnant. I've put things off, set aside my loves, the things I had been working on. Did I mention I had been humbled? I've re-learned not to let another day pass inconsequentially. My fibro helped with the humbling. I'm still in flare but it's easing. Only by relinquishing my fear of losing control can I take back it's hold on my life.

So I'll live today knowing that each tomorrow is another chance to try my hand at life again, and that each yesterday taught me something important. And we'll keep going. Because it's worth it, this dream we have and that R and I are clinging to. It's worth it and it always has been.