Saying Goodbye too soon

On a Saturday morning in April 2008, while away at my husband's 10th high school reunion, I (on a major whim) decided to take a pregnancy test.

 

Okay, maybe it wasn't such a major whim since I had packed the pregnancy test in the first place, but I definitely wasn't expecting it to be positive.

 

As I sat there staring at the test, I watched the second line appear.

At first I thought the steam and mist from the shower my husband was taking was blurring my vision, but the line was really real.

 

And so was our joy.

 

Pure, unadulterated joy.

 

I wanted to tell everyone we spoke to that day about our news.

Paul convinced me it was early and we should wait.

I've never been more grateful for my husband's sound advice.

 

You know the outcome.

 

For three days, we dreamed like first time pregnancy folks do.

We were naïve.

We were in love with a baby who would have been born around Christmas 2008.

 

We never saw or heard a heartbeat.

We never made it to a doctor's appointment.

 

And yet, a loss that is intangible is still a loss.

 

I'm convinced if I ever met Theresa Caputo she would tell me that first pregnancy would have been a girl and Paul and I would have named her Zoë. The only baby name we have ever agreed on.

Our Zoë would have been getting ready to turn 7.

 

For seven years we clung to that name.

Knowing one day, we could get our Zoë.

 

About a year ago, a hearts started to shift.

It was weird how it happened to both of us, yet we never spoke about it.

A few short months ago, we looked at each other and almost without saying it, knew our Zoë ship had sailed.

 

It was an odd, cathartic way of saying goodbye to our almost eight years of fighting infertility.

A simple name encompassing three official chemical pregnancies and years of negative tests.

Another step in our grieving process.

Mourning the loss of a biological child that hasn't and probably will not ever exist.

 

Our story of loss is easily summed up into about two minutes worth of reading time...and that's just because I got wordy.

 

Today is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day.

 

A day which will always weigh heavily on my heart.

Not necessarily for my own personal story, but for the too many numerous family and friend's stories it carries.

 

Today I think about the people actively going through a miscarriage.

I think about the people who were in the home stretch...whose houses were full of baby supplies, with a car seat waiting in the car and a nursery beautifully decorated...only to come home empty handed.

I think about the women who had to go through a D&C or an active labor & delivery only to be handed a sleeping baby.

I think about the people who cope alone and in silence, because they never had a chance to share that they were expecting before it was over.

 

I think about how our everyday experiences, how even the vernacular we use can shape the way in which we process loss.

 

Does the fact that the doctors have always dubbed my losses as chemical pregnancies make it easier for me to process than calling them miscarriages?  I think so.

Does it mean I haven't mourned what would have happened nine months later? Nope.

 

I think about how every woman (& man) has been molded uniquely by the stories their hearts carry.

By the grief, the anguish, the guilt, the constant questions, the wondering, the what ifs.

By the way one loss or one story can taint the way in which you process any future pregnancy, be it your own or a family member or friend.

By the joy that is ripped from our hearts in the most unexpected and seemingly cruel way.

 

 

And yet, I see stories of hope and happiness that await on the other side.

That a loss can make the boring, mundane day in and day out, seem like a miracle of epic proportions when you focus on the children you do have or the ones who are yet to be.

 

I hear women openly referring to their Rainbow babies, providing an awareness to the loss they have endured and a ray of sunshine to the other side.

 

 

You may think today doesn't affect you.

But, I promise that if today doesn't resonate with you personally, it does hit incredibly close to home for someone you know.

 

 

So here's to a day where we can be open and publicly talk about an issue that needs more awareness and deserves more compassion.

 

And here's to a lifetime of carrying babies not in our arms, but in our hearts.

 

 

 



The 4 P's

As the time draws closer to having the adopted embryos in our possession (in our clinic), I have been working hard at preparing my body for a possible pregnancy.

 

Which sounds totally ridiculous in my mind and is, quite honestly, something I have a hard time wrapping my head around. 

 

After almost 8 years of infertility the most pervasive thought that runs through my head is 'most women don't have to do this.'  That thought doesn't contain any hostility or negativity with it. It just runs through my head factually, because, well, most women don't have to do this.

  

Over the past couple of months, I have made some diet and exercise changes (and a few mental/lifestyle changes).  These changes have kicked into high gear as a transfer date gets closer.  I've compiled a list of do's and don'ts based off of recommendations from Mom #1, my acupuncturist and my doctor.

It's enough to make my head spin.

And there's a whole lot of stipulations, too. 

For example, I'm supposed to be eating a high Vit. K diet (which I do by incorporating spinach, kale, & chard into a morning smoothie). But, I'm also supposed to be keeping my body temperature slightly elevated, so I should be avoiding cold foods.  Which means now I have to 'warm up' my smoothie with a 'warm' spice (for ex. cumin-NO WAY...or cinnamon). Oy Vey.

Many of these changes go directly against the drastic lifestyle changes I made three years ago when I lost 40 lbs. For example, I'm supposed to stay away from dairy...specifically low-fat/no fat dairy.  For years I have had a yogurt with breakfast and lunch, a glass of milk with dinner and an ice cream bar for dessert (my weak spot). Now, I'm supposed to have organic, high fat/whole milk products.  I feel like I've gained ten pounds just from eating high fat, good quality dairy products! 

Anyway...all these changes leave four words constantly swirling in my head.

Permission
Patience
Prayer
Praise

*******************************
Permission
My husband is training for a half marathon.  Between his running and my packed cookie schedule, we haven't been to the gym together in forever. I squeeze my workouts in during lunch by using the gym at work.  There is no elliptical (my fave) in our work gym and consequently, I'm on the treadmill almost five days a week (aside from perfectly gorgeous days like today where I choose to walk outside instead).  When I step foot onto the treadmill, I instantly feel the desire to run. 
Even on the days where I have committed to exercising lightly, I still want to run a minimum of a mile.

And that's where this whole permission idea comes into play.
I have to give myself permission to take it easy. 
Based off doctor and acupuncturist suggestions, I should really be limiting the amount of cardio exercising I do.  All I know is when I step onto a treadmill, my body yells go.
I have tell my brain to tell my body it's okay to stop.
It's very counter-intuitive. 

But it's not just permission for an exercise routine change.
It's permission to allow myself to do things for me, for really little things and really big things.
(Which sounds so absolutely ridiculous since I have no kids and to the outside world probably seem like I have an abundance of me time already.)
It's permission to bump acupuncture up to twice a week.
Permission to slow down and have that recommended cup of tea each night (side note: I HATE tea).
Permission to let myself absorb the reality of what we're about to go through.
Permission to grieve not having our own biological children.

Patience
Currently, I'm reacting to my life much the same way I react when I step onto the treadmill.
I feel as though the outside world is moving so slowly and inside I'm frantically rushing ahead to the embryo transfer.
I usually equate this feeling to one of joy and excitement as to what our future holds,
but, some days, I know I'm just being impatient.
This is one of my most favorite times of the year and I have to remind myself that continuing to have patience will help me focus on all the things I love about this season.

 Prayer
Taking the time to actively pray (and only pray) is an area in which I've always struggled.  This mostly stems from the fact that I talk to God in my head A LOT.  Usually when I take the time to be still, I realize I have already communicated my prayers to God at some point during the day.
But, this type of prayer, is different. It's intentional. 
And it's a whole new ball game for me and my way of thinking.
It's saying a prayer for the UPS driver and all the people who will help transport our embryos across the country to us.
It's a prayer for the embryologist as he chooses which ones we should implant.
It's being cognizant of all of the facets involved in our journey to parenthood. 
Of all the circumstances involved
Most importantly, of all the people involved.
And not just saying prayers to cross it off some imaginary to do list, but to really etch them into my heart. 

Praise
Those three P's can only lead me to the most important P of all.
When I start feeling overwhelmed by the enormity of how every decision I (we) make could or will impact the outcome of what we're about to endure, I just have to walk myself through the first three P's.  Ultimately, I end up with nothing but thanks and gratitude and praise for Him and our journey.

I bet most of you have a similar ebb and flow in your life. 
Some days you feel like you have it all together and other days feel really, really messy.

Remember to give yourself permission to take a time out for you. 
The rest will fall into place.

(Side note: Hopefully you'll gain a little something from this blog post, but in hindsight, I think I just wrote that down so I can reread it when I forget to follow my own rules).



Rambling thoughts

The other day I had a pretty serious conversation with someone about a pretty heavy topic.  They shared with me that they had read my blog and had searched for some guidance, which is equal parts humbling and terrifying. 

Most days I just write in this thing so I can get my personal thoughts out of my head and onto paper…err computer screen.  The other days this thing serves merely as a chronological account of what we've personally been through.  Occasionally a random golden nugget of wisdom may show up, but those are fairly fleeting.  Trust me, I went back through this thing and found maybe a handful of profound thoughts.

On any given day, when people read my posts, I usually chock it up to the fact that people just have an innate general nosiness. I mean, am I right? Or perhaps, they're bored out of their mind or procrastinating on doing something else.  I know a few folks have personally told me they follow because they're traveling down a similar road and I do know that many of you all follow along because you're praying for us, wishing us all the best and are genuinely interested.

So, I've given a lot of thought to how this little corner of my world could perhaps help someone in any generalized scenario and I've got a few thoughts to share.

****

Time does not heal all wounds.  That's crap.  Whatever your wound may be. What changes with time is you.  Your circumstances, your outlook, your attitude, the folks around you.  Perhaps your beliefs.  And while life may never get easier, it should definitely get better.  Your wound heals just a bit. And it'll heal differently for everyone.  There will always be those triggers that instantaneously reopen that wound.  As time goes on, you'll learn that you can't control those triggers but you will know how to treat your wound.

Speaking of things getting better.  That's kinda on you.  I'm a firm believer that you can choose to see the positive or you can wallow in the negative. Trust me, I've done both. I'm not saying you can't have a good, healthy day of self-pity.  Some days we need those 'woe is me' days.  But use those days to recenter yourself and move swiftly back to the positive side.  Negativity and bitterness is no place to reside long term.

Grieving is normal and healthy and like you, how and when you grieve will constantly change.  

If your situation is more finite than fluid, perhaps the grieving process will occur once and you'll be able to move on from whatever trial or tribulation caused your grief.  That isn't the case with infertility.  Women have this wonderful monthly reminder (or not in some scenarios) of what they are missing out on.  Some days the anger surfaces. Denial, acceptance, all the stages will flow together and will rear their ugly heads at various times.  That's okay.

Speaking of ugly.  Life is going to get ugly sometimes. It's not always rainbows.  But keep a clear head on your shoulders and realize you need the rain in order to see a rainbow (okay, barf, that was way too Hallmarky, but you get my point).  And, for pete's sake, allow yourself to ugly cry.  Let the snot flow, sob til you can't breath and let.it.go.  It's cathartic and needed.  Now, use your ugly cries sparingly and in the right place.  I'm thinking at home or with a friend/loved one….the middle of Target might not be such a great place.

Find what centers you. Find what calms you.  I'm advocating for all things healthy and positive here. I know alcohol sure is tempting, but it's not the answer! 

Side Note: I asked my husband if he had any profound advice and his response was craft beer.  Men.

If it's yoga, meditation, acupuncture, running/exercising, traveling, reading, Jesus.

Embrace it.  Goodness knows we need all the healthy coping mechanisms in place to survive what a tough world we live in.

You know Jesus is my preferred method….especially since this girl hates to run.

Perhaps I'll add more later, but for right now, my brownies just came out of the oven and my hubby's telling me it's time to go watch some football.  

Steelers vs. Packers. Or in our house, Kate vs. Paul. Thank goodness we don't play each other in regular season this year, or I'd need to write another blog post about forgiving your spouse for rooting for the wrong team ;) 

The Blog post you've been waiting for

No, I'm still not pregnant.

 

(Oh wait, THAT'S probably the blog post you've been waiting for??! -Yeah, well us, too!)

 

 

You may have noticed a facebook post that Paul and I were tagged in welcoming us to a new, crazy modern day family.

 

Well, folks, that is the wonderful news we've been taking delight in all summer long.

 

 

The story I have for you will hopefully leave you believing in miracles and with a greater awareness of His presence....or at the very least it should leave you with a good case of the goose bumps.

Now...let's travel all the way back to April.

*******

Shortly after I posted (mid- April) about how the 2nd Annual R2P was one of the emotionally hardest things I've ever done, Paul and I decided it was time to take the next step of our journey. 

Albeit, we had no idea what the next step of our journey should be.

I had been lurking in this secret, closed facebook group of people who are looking to donate embryos or adopt embryos since (I think) November.  You have to be invited into this group by someone already in it, which, in and of itself, is the first miracle.
(In and of itself, is, in and of itself, an awesome useless idiom!)

So, I was invited into this secret group by a member of the first class of the R2P, and there I lurked for months, absorbing bits and pieces of information here and there about embryo adoption/donation.  There is a place in that group to include a brief bio.  So, when Paul and I decided to take that next step, this was the most basic starting point.  Just simply putting our info out into the universe (and by universe, I mean a closed fb group with a little over 500 members).

And there our info sat.

For the next three weeks, Paul and I muddled through tons of information about various agencies.
There was the post I wrote about looking into the Snowflakes program, a branch of Nightlight Christian Adoption Services.
We hemmed and hawed. We debated. We reached out to various organizations.

On Tuesday, May 12th, Paul and I stuck our applications in the mail. 
We had chosen to use the National Embryo Donation Center (NEDC).  They require you to have a home study completed through a local adoption agency.  In the mail that day were our applications to the NEDC and the private local adoption agency and we had also submitted our check requests to the R2P for those two application fees.  The checks were scheduled to go out in the following day's mail.

This decision was not weighed lightly. We took into account program fees, home study fees, possible turn around time, protocol, etc. 

We knew we were possibly in for the long haul.  Going through the NEDC meant submitting our information and waiting for a donor family to pick us first.
No pressure.
Over the course of my lurking time in that secret fb group, I learned that the general waiting period to be matched was around ten months.  Now, that's ten months from beginning of the application process to embryo transfer, but when you've been waiting for so long...ten months is simultaneously a drop in the bucket and eternity.

That Tuesday evening, I came home and went to work on my cookie orders.
Around 10:30 pm, I received a very generic message from a lady who was also in that secret group simply inquiring about where we lived.

The next 36 hours were a whirlwind of very personal and very meaningful conversations.
Conversations between Paul and I, the donating couple, the couple's they had already donated to, and family members.  One to one conversations and group chats.
Almost every exact word from those 36 hours is etched into my heart and there they shall stay.

By Thursday morning, all three couples ("Three?", you say? More on that in another post) had given us their blessings to call and cancel our applications and our application fee checks.

So where are the miracles?

When you realize that He is there, you will find him everywhere.

Some of you may call them sheer coincidences, but in our house they serve as a reminder of His awesomeness and how everything happens in His perfect timing.

Because I like lists and because this post is already fairly wordy, you get our examples in bullet points.

*The original couple (whose full genetic embryos we will be using) chose our profile because of Paul being a police officer (Mom #1 is a corrections officer) and because of our last name. Both of our last names end in 'kowski'.  Who knew that Paul choosing one of the most thankless professions over twelve years ago would provide us with one of OUR biggest opportunities to be thankful.  Who also knew that when Paul told me his last name on our first date (and I really did consider running for the hills because I thought for sure I'd get something easier than my maiden name of Hackenberg) it would also be the second biggest factor in our profile standing out from the others?!

*In one of our very first conversations (on the phone), Mom #1 explained how she envisions all of us getting together one day and having a huge "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" get together.  That Thursday (the same day all 3 couples chose us), one of my employees (who NEVER shows movies for her afternoon program) was showing "My Big Fat Greek Wedding".  The movie was scheduled a month in advance.

*When I got to work on that Wednesday morning, I was feeling incredibly overwhelmed with how fast the whole process was unfolding and I knew I needed to re-center myself.  A million questions kept swirling in my head and I knew I needed to just calm down. I keep a book in my desk drawer called "Jesus Calling" and I always joke that Jesus actually needs to call me to it because I don't use it as my daily devotional.  I'm serious. Months can go by before I re-open it.
This was May 13th's devotion:
"Thank me in the mist of the crucible. When things seem all wrong, look for growth opportunities.  Especially look for areas where you need to let go, leaving your cares in My able hands.  Do you trust Me to orchestrate your life events as I choose, or are you still trying to make things go according to your will? If you keep trying to carry out your intentions while I am leading you in another direction, you deify your desires. Be on the lookout for what I am doing in your life. Worship Me by living close to Me, thanking me in all circumstances."
I have never experienced a more proverbial smack in the face.
I sat at my desk stunned.
How did that book know???

*Mom #3 was also in that 'secret fb group' and she reached out to Mom #1 explaining she had found a couple she wanted Mom #1 to read about.  Mom #1 surprised her by saying she had also liked this couple and had already reached out to them.  They each, on their own, picked us.

*The timing:  I mentioned it earlier, but it deserves to be emphasized.  Mom #1 reached out to me FIVE hours after the snail mail was sent.  The leap of faith they took on us, how all the pieces fell into place so quickly, allowed us to cancel our application checks which saved us hundreds of dollars.

There have been other significant moments throughout the summer, but those are the highlights.

Actually, the biggest highlight to date is what happened yesterday. 
We received the paperwork from the main clinic that is currently storing the embryos.
Couple #1 has officially and legally signed over possession of the embryos to us.

Which means as soon as we can get forms filled out, checks sent and embryos shipped, we can get this next chapter really, really started.
And, hopefully, one day in the future, I'll be able to give birth to our adopted child.

I'm sure you may have a million other questions/thoughts floating around in your mind.
I'll break things down more in other posts, but for now I will leave you with this...

Our hearts have never been fuller.
We have never experienced such a selfless act of love and giving and grace before as to what these three couples have provided to us in the past three months.
They don't make words that adequately describe this amount of gratitude, fullness, completion, thankfulness.

Stay tuned.

 

Oh, hey!

In my mind, it hasn't been that long since I've written.  Perhaps it's because this summer has just flown by.  I'm not one who typically likes any season to rush by since I prefer to find the joy in each one, but because summer is my least favorite and fall, football, and all things pumpkin make my heart happiest, I haven't been sad to see summer go so quickly.  

I was reminded today that it had been a while since I updated the world on what's happening in the Ski household.  To be honest and fair, this whole waiting game has been the past eight years for us, so it's nothing new around here.  I tend to forget that more people (than in the past) are actively following our journey.

So here's what's been happening in the past several weeks.

*****

Remember that time over my 30th birthday at the end of last September when we announced we had gotten a positive pregnancy test?  Well, I hadn't thought much about that time period until the end of May/beginning of June showed up and I realized "Oh yeah, I'm not having a baby".

Meanwhile, I'm pretty sure 742 babies were born at the end of May and into June.

Okay, not that many, but you get my point.

Only one really, really mattered to me and that was our newest nephew.  

I had several folks let me know that they were thinking of me during that time period and while I am very grateful for their well wishes and kind thoughts, I have this amazing ability to separate my sister's (and everyone else's for that matter) stories from my own.  

Again, another perk to an overly logical brain.

And the weeks rolled on and more babies were born.  Mostly babies from the Race to Parenthood Class of 2014 and it was so incredibly amazing to watch so many of those couples who had struggled and endured countless heartaches finally find their happy ending. Which is precisely how I know I have been on this road for a long, long time. There is not one ounce of resentment or bitterness flowing through me when I think of those couples while I'm over here still tapping my toe with my arms crossed looking up at God and trying to wait patiently. I am rooted deeply in my faith and belief that joy should be celebrated and those couples deserve every ounce of their new bundles of joy.

June kept rolling on and Paul and I went to West Virginia to see our niece graduate from 5th grade. Somehow by the end of our trip we had planned to head to Myrtle Beach and Niagara Falls with them.  

Considering Paul and I started the summer without having any vacations planned, we were very excited. 

Remember that time I surprisingly ended up with another positive pregnancy test for the second month in a row?  Well, somewhere around early July, it dawned on me that I wasn't having a baby again. I actually think what rolled through my head on my projected due date was something along the lines of "well, F***ity, F*** that freaking sucks." And the thought was gone literally 15 seconds later.

That's about the amount of time I let myself focus on what hasn't been. 

I much prefer to focus on what is yet to come.

And somehow, our trips to Myrtle Beach and Niagara Falls appeared and then ended way too quickly. We squeezed in some amazing, much needed and long overdue family time with Paul's family.  I adore the memories we made with the other Ski clan. 

Which brings us to now. 

Those exciting things that were happening for us are still happening.  The journey we are going through takes a little while, but when all is said and done (especially after waiting eight years), these few short months will appear to have moved at lightening speed.  All of the details of this phase of our life will be revealed in time.  We're hoping to have another (major) update by Thanksgiving.  

In the meantime, we continue to be grateful for and humbled by your thoughts and prayers. 

Now bring on fall!!!

Music and Faith

I've debated long and hard about writing this post.  

People often joke that if you want to keep your friends you never talk about finances, politics or religion.

And this post is going to get religious.  

This is just a glimpse into what makes me, me.

It's kind of a huge step to come out and say 

"Hey, I'm a Christian….and yes, I love Jesus"

It's an even bigger step for someone who was raised in the Catholic faith where (typically) you showed your beliefs by adhering to man made rules and traditions, but kept your faith hush hush.  Unless of course it was time for a baptism, 1st Holy Communion, or Confirmation in which case, everyone seemed to know it was time for that special sacrament. 

I've delved into our faith journey and our infertility journey from time to time in this blog. 

But on Friday night, I was overcome with this weird sense of all of the areas of my life coming together.

Follow me here.

I love music.

Not in the sense where I can read music or play music or teach music.  

Not even in the sense where I want to listen to symphonies or classical music or jazz or easy listening.  

Cause, honestly, while I appreciate it all, some of that music kinda makes me want to cut off my ears.

My music career began and ended with me 'playing the flag' in high school band.

And I have LOTS of talented musicians in my family. 

I'm talking about specific songs, certain bands and live shows.

I love songs that cut right to my heart and seem to carry the most perfect message or sentiment for my mood.

I love the pulse, the rhythm, the crowd when you attend a live show.

And I have quite an eclectic repetoire of live shows under my belt.

I've seen KISS, Cher, Kenny Chesney (4 times), NKOTB, NSYNC, STYX, Journey, Shania Twain, Pat Benetar, Chicago, The All American Rejects, Rascall Flatts, Cindy Lauper, Passion Pit, Of Monsters and Men, Simple Plan, Three Doors Down, Breaking Benjamin, The Wallflowers, and too many others I can't even remember.  

And most of those were pre-college graduation.

But there was this one genre of music that I was never exposed to.

As a young Catholic, all I knew were Catholic hymns.

I didn't even know generic hymns.  

Old Rugged Cross? Be Thou My Vision?, etc.  I learned those when I started working at a Methodist retirement home.

I'm not knocking those Catholic hymns…they still provide me with the most comfort.

I'm just saying I didn't know other 'Christian' music existed until we switched churches four years ago.

Now, suddenly, my world has expanded to include Christian music.

If you would have told me in high school that I would actively be seeking out live Christian concerts, I would have looked at you like you had two heads.

But, when life hands you something like infertility and you start (at first) grasping onto whatever branch you can to stay afloat…and you find music that provides you with an uplifting message, you take it and run with it.  

You cling for dear life.

You search for more uplifting songs…for more artists.

And you keep freakin' clinging…because in those early days, the alternative is letting go and drowning.

And drowning was never an option.

Somewhere over the past four years, the music switched in my heart from being life-saving to life-giving.  

My second sister and I have introduced our baby sister to our new church…and consequently, she's learned to love listening to some Christian music, too.

It dawned on me that many of the songs I cling so desperately to probably don't have as much meaning to her.  She hasn't had to walk through a huge battle yet.

(Not that high school/boyfriends/friends/family isn't a battle in their own right)

But, I mean a life altering, game changing battle.

A battle that makes you re-evaluate everything in your life.

I pray that introducing her to this kind of music at this stage in her life will fill her with the strength, courage and hope she'll need to face whatever challenges come her way.

For my infertility journey, I am thankful.  It has opened up a whole new world for me and provides a common ground for my youngest sister and I to bond over.

Whatever challenges you're facing, whatever difficult journey lies ahead of you, I hope you find some meaning in these videos. They're just a few of the songs I hold closest to my heart and I heard them all last Friday night at KingsFest.

(Side note, my videos of the live shows would not upload, so you get the actual youtube music video.)

Whether you hear or feel Jesus in them or not…I hope you can still find an uplifting message.

Maybe this is the first you've been exposed to this type of music. 

Maybe you'll find yourself desperately clinging in a time of need in a place you never thought you'd be and music will speak the loudest to your heart like it did mine.

I pray some of these lyrics will stick with you and encourage you.

I challenge you to take the time to really listen to each song.

For King & Country-Shoulders

For King and Country-Fix my Eyes

For King and Country- To the Dreamers

Matthew West- Forgiveness

Building 429- Where I belong

Building 429-Listen to the Sound

The only constant in life is change

It's the end of an era 'round these parts. 

 

By the end of this week, this beauty will no longer reside at the Z household.
(I'm talking about the motorcycle...not my husband!)

(At the Harley Dealership getting ready to drive it off the lot in 2011)

 

It was one of the most incredibly hard decisions we've ever had to make.

 

Saying goodbye to something that's been more like a sweet friend or a trusty companion instead of an object that just gets parked in the driveway.

 

See, this motorcycle saved us.

Even in the very early days of owning it...before we had even bought the appropriate foot attire, this silly motorcycle helped us grow up and grow together.

 

(Right before Paul took his first ride.)

 (Me trying the bike out in my heeled boots...the only way my feet could reach the ground.
No rides for me though, I didn't even have a helmet yet!)

 

We thought we bought this motorcycle as a gift to ourselves for surviving the hardest year of our marriage.  When our first IVF attempt and our first Frozen Embryo Transfer both failed in 2010, we hit rock bottom.  Our emotional, financial, and mental wells were tapped completely dry.

We had maxed out our credit cards paying for fertility treatments, so we knew we couldn't add any more credit cards...but (in our minds), we could afford to start paying off our credit cards little by little AND a Harley payment. Paul promised to pick up extra off duty and while getting the Harley was by no means the smartest financial move we have ever made, the value it brought to our life has no price.

 

We accumulated the appropriate riding gear, slowly but surely.

And felt the road calling.

 

At a time where we could have let our marriage fall apart...as is often the case when couples go through infertility...we made it a point to ride the Harley together.

Choosing a passion that bonded us over our individual interests.

 

In the early days of Harley ownership, when our minds needed the most clearing...our rides were long.

 

We conquered most all of skyline drive together...twice.

 

 

 

First as a dynamic duo...

 

and then with friends.

 

 

Two years in a row we packed for a weekend of tailgating in our Harley and hit the road to State College, PA.  I was always so proud of us for being able to pack for an entire weekend in a backpack and two little saddlebags. My heart instantly calms down the minute I start driving towards PA...and I have always had double the peace when I'm riding on the back of the Harley.

 

(I snapped this photo from the back of the Harley on one of our gorgeous trips home from PA.)

 

While we worked on slimming ourselves down...we added to the bike.

The Harley got a brand new seat (much to my rear end's happiness!), a luggage rack, a larger sissy bar, and an engine guard.

 

And Thank God for that engine guard.

 

The same storm that toppled our neighbor's tree into our yard, also knocked the bike down. 

 

(You can see the bike next to Paul in the white shirt)

 

I'm going to miss watching my hubby ride the Harley as I follow behind him in the car...because I cannot pack for the beach in two saddlebags and a back pack!

 

 

I'm also going to miss indulging my husband's crazy ideas like taking the Harley all the way down to Hatteras.

 

It was a gorgeous day for a bike ride, but sand and motorcycles do NOT mix!

 

 

And I know that Paul is going to miss his solo rides. 

It wasn't uncommon for Paul to log over a 100 miles in one solo ride.

I can't imagine the loss he must be feeling as we close this chapter of our lives.

 

 

It's even more bittersweet now that our niece has picked up on the fact that "Uncle Pawl" rides "motahcycles".

 

 

I've got a pretty good arsenal of motorcycle memories swirling in my brain.

 

Like the time a deer cut us off and our feet clipped the deer as it darted by us at 60 mph and somehow, by the grace of God, we stayed upright.

 

Or the time we decided to ride the Harley to the top of Carter's mountain...which is a lot windier and steeper on a Harley than in a car....and has gravel at the top!

 

Or the countless times we raced to get home before the rain clouds opened up. Like that one time we darted into the only store on Sky Line drive just before a HUGE storm rolled through...and realized how desperately we needed rain gear because even after it stops raining...the roads are still wet and you will still end up soaked.

 

Or all the hundreds of back roads and quaint towns we've seen during our 'explorations' in Virginia.

 

 

I keep rereading this and I realize how completely ridiculous it sounds to get so mushy over a bike.

 

For four years this Harley has been our escape...our outlet...our sanity.

When our world felt wrong, being together on the bike felt right.

 

We had to trust each other immensely and learn how to communicate creatively with each during long rides.

 

We hemmed and hawed over whether or not to sell it. 

But then, the stars aligned again and as it turns out...our 'riding' friends have bought the bike.

 

Is it weird to be comforted by the ability to have visitation rights with the bike?

We are at peace knowing the bike will be in good hands...knowing that we'll be able to follow its journey. 

 

So why now? 

Why this moment?

 

Because, y'all....big and exciting things are brewing for the Z's.

Things that will be revealed in time.

Things that provide this couple's hearts with a peace and a joy that's been missing for a long, long time.

 

(no...I'm not pregnant).

 

Stay tuned!