On Monday I turned 35. I knew this would be a tough one. It's one of those "milestone birthdays" where you think about what you'd be doing at 35. Years ago I figured at this point I'd be driving kiddos to games, volunteering at their school and packing lots of lunches....not still trying to have kiddos with not a whole lot of luck. Last year on my birthday I told myself that by the time I was 35 this would be behind us, we'd be through the IVF process and hopefully have a baby in our arms or on the way. And, if not, we'd be far along in the adoption process. Instead, our year was miserable in terms of growing our family. Hope, loss, hope, loss, hope, loss and now back to hope. I don't want this hope to lead to more loss.
Had the last baby continued to grow in me, my 35th birthday would have been my 12 week mark. Instead it was 3.5 weeks after our miscarriage. Some days it's hard to keep telling myself it will all work out. I've told myself that many, many times and it really doesn't seem like things always "work out". I know in the big picture things will look better, but, losing babies in the womb will never seem like "working out" to me....especially when we know at least one of them was a healthy baby.
So, 35 I am, and I am going to make it a good year!