Update

So I didn’t write for a few months because I was indeed pregnant. I was really happy, and didn’t know how to relate from the vantage point of my new found joy to this outlet of my past pain. Then, at 10 weeks, I found out I’d miscarried again. I still didn’t write – I guess I didn’t want to be a fair weather friend, or rather a stormy weather friend, since I’m only here when things suck.

It’s been over a month now. I’m just finishing my first period since May. Looking toward the future at least as often as I recall the past. Feelings of optimism and hopefulness are almost simultaneous with the realization that it is possible that I may never have a successful pregnancy. This is something I have recognized intellectually for some time, though my emotional self had never accepted it. My approach to adversity has always been this: there is no reason to dwell on the negative, there is always a solution, things will work out for me. I am lucky.

I don’t feel lucky any more, but feel guilty saying I feel unlucky. It isn’t hard to think of people who would be thrilled to have all that I have – a great set of parents, a loving partner, a small but comfortable home, and more or less good physical health.

I suppose I’ve arrived at a more balanced perspective of my life and of myself. I am not invincible, am not uniquely blessed with unending good fortune. But I also know that I am not an inevitably tragic tale.

I am just human and alive.