This trip to New York came at the exact right time. Reading over my last post, I saw from an outside perspective how much this infertility journey has changed me.

I think I still feel lost as to what to do now, but now as some of the exacerbating factors have settled, I’m feeling less angry. 

Right, being in New York. Hubby had an event with his friends down here last night so he drove down yesterday. I stayed back because I had tickets to Taylor Swift (poor me!). I took the Greyhound like I did every trip to and from home in college and grad school. I arrived in NYC and instinctively found my way to the Q train. I found myself standing on the corner of Quentin and E. 16 where Hubby picked me up when I took the train to Brooklyn for our second date.

We met up with my best friend from Brooklyn aka my non-sexual life partner and went to our favorite Chinese restaurant. After that we went to the new location of our favorite Italian ice shop (that Boston really needs to start doing ASAP). With time to kill before meeting other friends for dinner at the roast beef shop, we drove around the old neighborhood.  The neighborhood I visited every week, where we fell in love, where I eventually moved in with Hubby (then boyfriend), where he asked me to marry him.  

Brooklyn is the site of our love story. 

Despite being a Boston girl, Brooklyn brings back memories of an extraordinary life made up of the mundane: commuting and working my ass off in grad school, walking around the park, drinking Malibu bay breezes with friends, making an entire night out of sitting on a stoop laughing. It’s no wonder that my love for Brooklyn the borough prompted me to name our much beloved dog Brooklyn. 

Being back in Brooklyn reminds me of when I was a more authentic me. It reminds me of a time when I was so much more than infertile. 

And I needed that reminder. 


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