So here we are again on October 15. Things are definitely a lot more settled around here, especially compared to last year and definitely compared to two years ago. Our infertility is no closer to resolution but my heart hasn’t added any additional scars. We’re just kind of on cruise control.
I’m in the midst of making some decisions and steps that could change life for us a little. I’m putting together an application for possibly a second masters to advance my career and/or looking into starting a side business as a break from my primary occupation. Both have developed super recently and at the moment I’m just not positive what the best course is. What is a huge change for me is that the possibility of being pregnant has hardly crossed my mind for consideration. Maybe it’s just acquired wisdom from experience that not being able to try for a year doesn’t mean it can or will happen exactly a year from now. In the past I would have been paralyzed by the “what if I’m pregnant” which has held me back from so much of the last 6 years. I’m kind of like “we’ll figure it out when there’s something to figure out” which I really have to admit is a big change for me.
That’s why it’s kind of weird that this year I felt compelled to do something meaningful to commemorate October 15. I had it planned for months: I was getting a tattoo today. I started researching designs, some more obvious than others. I settled on an overall concept that had to do with never forgetting and included three hearts that represented the Baby Rafkaps we never met. Hubby will certainly experience some guilt for this story, but this is his journey too and he is entitled to having his concerns heard. Anyway. He suggested I leave room…just in case out of superstition. I held back tears. It was like the bottom fell out of my stomach. I have only ever thought of the losses as something behind me. Something I’ve found the strength to get through but always remember. I stopped thinking that it could happen again. I think part of me knew that if we got pregnant that I would certainly have fear, but that it wouldn’t happen again. I’m actually a little surprised at my own optimism. Needless to say, I need to regroup a little and rethink because if I experience another loss, the last thing I want to do is run through my checklist like “MD to see WTF, Blood tests to 0, add heart to tattoo”. Yeah. No thanks.
I reconnected on Facebook with a relative that for my own reasons I hadn’t spoken to in a number of years. As is usually the case in these situations, the questions came “How are you? Any kids yet?” I responded about my surgery and how I’m feeling pretty good overall and I completely ignored the second question. I’ve generally been pretty outspoken about my journey and never have shied away from that question. This time, it was like I couldn’t be bothered to even respond that God hadn’t given them yet.
I really don’t know why. Not that I’m complaining.