Five hundred-twenty five thousand-six hundred minutes ago was the start of one of the worst weeks of my life and by far the hardest year in my life. The week my whole world fell apart and my life as I knew it would never, ever be the same.
Don’t get me wrong- there have been plenty of good moments this past year too.
A roof over my head.
Plenty of food to eat.
A family and a husband that love me.
Going back to school.
A new job with hours that let me spend more time with B.
Celebrating two years of
mostly wedded bliss.
And lots of adventures with both sides of the family.
But this week it’s hard not to focus on the shit storm that came one year ago.
My parents separation and the affects (effects? I cant never remember… My English teach would be so disappointed. Sorry, Mr. VanHouten.) it had/has in my relationships with both of my parents.
And my relationships with my three younger sisters.
And their relationships with our parents and each other. It’s so hard to watch people you love going through and doing things that hurt them and some of the other people you love.
And my relationship with B.
God bless this man. I’ve definitely had my moments and he’s held me when I was a sobbing mess. Calmed me down when I’m in the middle of a panic attack and can’t see the end in sight. He’s reassured me that we aren’t my parents and don’t have an expiration date to our marriage. He’s convinced me I don’t have to be everything to everyone all the time. He’s taken my mind off the separation when everything is just too much.
I know it seems trivial, my 25th birthday. 25 was a hard age for me to turn. Being closer to 30 than 20 was a real difficult pill to swallow. And now my 26th birthday is very, VERY rapidly approaching. Four more shopping days, but who’s counting. 🙂 I’ve always felt like I’m the last to be picked for big life milestones. I got married after most of my peers. 25 just felt like 30 was moments away. I don’t know why it was such a big deal, but it just was.
My infertility diagnosis.
Not seeing the light at the end of the tunnel.
Feeling completely hopeless and clueless.
Feeling like I’m not in control of my body or my future.
Infertility just sucks. There’s really no other way to put it.
This year has definitely been a beach. Plain and simple. There have been highs and gut-wrenching lows. But I’m never going to have to do it again. Thank God.
My parents won’t ever split up again.
I won’t hear I probably won’t have children without serious and expensive medical interventions and even then who knows.
And I’ll never turn 25 again.
But I will eventually turn 30. Then I’ll re-evaluate for hardest year of my life.