Yesterday, my acupuncturist told me that I am blossoming. The more I think about it, the more I realize how perfectly that word captures where I am: figuring out how to be the new me, the woman who has come to terms with loss and the death of dreams, and still live. I am entering a new phase, one filled with happiness and hope but also acceptance of the reality of our situation.
I still hope, but I know that in fact we may never become parents.
Pregnancy doesn't seem to work for us. Adoption isn't heartbreak and hurdle free, either.
I am figuring out how to be okay with whatever the future holds.
I am blossoming. I hope I can be beautiful.